


Second Opinions

by dashwood



Category: Scrubs (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Getting Together, Humor, M/M, One Shot Collection, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2020-08-19 08:55:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 20,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20207083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dashwood/pseuds/dashwood
Summary: A collection of unrelated bits and scenes; mostly inspired by moments from the show.





	1. My Sleepover

A shrill whistle cut through the monotony of heart-rate monitors and idle chatter, causing JD’s head to whip around, eyes wide-open and ears perked. Truth be told, it made him feel a bit like a Pavlovian dog whenever Dr. Cox whistled at him – and for a second JD allowed himself to imagine what it would be like as a dog in a Disney cartoon, trotting around Sacred Heart with a stethoscope slung around his neck and Dr. Cox by his side – a magnificent lion with a lab coat and a reddish mane. 

“Patricia! Just the girl I was looking for.” 

“He’d eat his steak _raw_.” 

He snapped out of his daydream just in time to see Dr. Cox shaking his head in exasperation, eyes rolling upwards in what JD secretly dubbed his 'So-help-me-God'-Stare. 

“Here’s the deal, Newbie.” Grabbing JD by the arm, Dr. Cox hauled him away from the nurse’s station and down the corridor. “Apparently my next-door neighbor has not only been stealing my copy of the New York Times for the last couple of months but also any – and I mean absolutely _any _– empty pizza boxes he could possibly find in the trash in – what I can only assume is an attempt to be the star of the next season of NBC’s fan-favorite primetime show _Ew__, What the Hell_.” 

“I’ve never heard of that show.” 

Dr. Cox steadfastily ignored him. 

“So, to keep this conversation short enough for me to get back to work and for you to make it just in time for your 3 o’clock mani-pedi,” Dr. Cox paused and turned to face him, his expression caught somewhere between annoyance and despair. “I’ll be staying at your place for the next two weeks while pest control tries to wrestle the army of rats now living in my apartment complex.” 

“But that’s great!” JD’s face split into a massive smile. “Well - not the rat thing, obviously. But we can order Chinese and watch the Netflix special of _Gilmore Girls_.” 

“Save it, Shelley. Lucky for you I don’t have time to list all the things we will most decidedly _not_ be doing, so here is an abridged version instead: No braiding each other’s hair, no talking about boys, no playing Truth or Dare or any other of the delightful party games you used to play with your sorority sisters-” 

His rant cut into an annoyed groan as his pager gave a shrill ring. JD watched as he flashed it a quick look before deeming it a non-emergency and dropping it back into the pocket of his lab coat. 

“Where was I?” 

“Sorority.” 

Dr. Cox huffed and nodded his head from side to side as if debating whether he should bother with the rest of his speech or keep it for another day. After a moment he shook his head and turned his attention back to JD, his expression serious. 

“My stuff is already in the Porsche. Meet me in the parking lot at the end of your shift.” 

He turned away only to pause in his steps, his eyes flittering back to JD. 

“And Mary-Ann? That means you have your lunch break to drive back to your place and get rid of all the embarrassing things you no doubt keep lying around. Like your prized collection of barbie dolls, and the life-sized posters of your favorite boyband – you know, the ones with your lipstick marks all over them from when you were imagining what it would feel like to be kissed by your crush.” 

With that he turned around and headed down the corridor. 

“Haha, the joke’s on you! You know I use Rowdy to practice kissing!” JD shouted at his retreating back – only to regret it as soon as he saw the disgusted looks on the faces of two passing nurses. 

“It was just one time though,” he murmured, feeling defensive. And then, as if it'd explain everything: “I close my eyes too early.” 

(As always, the perfect comeback didn’t hit him until hours later when he was talking Mr. Prewitt through his diagnosis. 

“I should’ve just pointed out that he has never complained about my technique,” he groaned, silently vowing to himself that he’d get Dr. Cox to admit as much when they were halfway through their _Gilmore __Girls _marathon that night.) 


	2. My Mentor

All of this felt absolutely surreal - even more so than his occasional daydreams. 

They were at the bar - just him and Dr. Cox - and for once his mentor didn’t look as if he’d rather have his organs removed with a rusty knife and no anesthetic. It threw JD off kilter, prompting a string of nervous chatter and bubbly laughter as his hands fiddled with the label on his beer. 

He briefly wondered if Dr. Cox had dragged him down here to break some bad news to him. Maybe he was getting fired. Or maybe someone close to him was dying from an incurable disease - JD snuck a furtive glance at Dr. Cox. He looked fine enough. That is, if you ignored the downcast look on his face, scowl firmly in place.

Unable to take it any longer - this uncertainty, this not knowing - JD screwed up his courage and set down his beer. 

“So, Dr. Cox. Not that I don’t appreciate you wanting to spend some time with me outside of work, but - uh - was there a reason for this?”

Dr. Cox gave a half-hearted grunt, his eyes fixed on the near-empty glass of scotch sitting in front of him. 

“You starting in Pediatrics tomorrow?”

Wait, was that what this was all about? His new job? JD felt his heart skip a beat before it jump-started into a violent rhythm, bouncing joyfully against his ribcage. He couldn’t believe his luck; He was finally getting a grand, emotional gesture from Dr. Cox! And - oh God, he wasn’t even wearing proper clothes. If he had known that he’d finally get _The Moment_ he would have insisted on stopping by his place before heading down to the bar, donned on a nice shirt and jeans that didn’t smell like disinfectants and old people (courtesy of Mr. Marshall, who had talked him into a round of backgammon during his lunch break. JD had lost. Badly).

_Okay, just play it cool! _The voice inside his head screamed, its tone too high-pitched to project an air of calamity. _Don’t scare him away!_

Clearing his throat, JD affected an air of nonchalance. “Yeah, well. I’m just moving floors though. So - I dunno - we might still run into each other. From time to time. You know.”

Dr. Cox made a sound caught somewhere between a disinterested _hmph_ and an annoyed grunt.

“You - ah,” JD said after a second, eager to fill the silence between them before it had enough time to grow into something even more uncomfortable, something vile and smothering. “You haven’t really berated me for switching departments yet. I was expecting some lengthy rant.”

He sat up straight, his chest puffed out, before flicking the side of his nose in his best Dr. Cox impression.

“Oh tha-ha-nk God. Maybe now I’ll finally get a single day without your idle chatter about nail polish and training bras, Cathy.”

Nothing. Not even a hint of a smile. Instead, Dr. Cox was still staring fixedly into his glass of scotch as if it held all the answers to the universe. JD’s shoulders sagged in disappointment as he slumped back in his seat. Maybe it was time to call it a night, then. Just add this one to the list of almost-moments, piled together with the almost-hugs, the almost-made-godfather and his favorite - good ol’ almost-had-a-mentor-who-cared-for-him. 

JD sighed and looked around for his backpack. He had thrown it somewhere under their table back when Dr. Cox had told him to find someplace to sit while he got them their first round of drinks. He was just about to reach for it and hightail it out of there when Dr. Cox finally spoke up. 

“Newbie,” His voice sounded rough, scratchy. Probably from all the scotch he’d been chucking back as if it were water for the last half an hour.

“You know that this whole mentor-worship thing you’ve got going on is bound to end badly.”

JD frowned. 

“Wait, is this about me switching mentors? I didn’t think…”

“Just because you have this unhealthy need to idolize your superiors doesn’t mean that they can’t screw up.”

JD felt lost. Was Dr. Cox trying to trash talk his new mentor? He couldn’t possibly be angry that JD was switching departments to work under someone who didn’t grimace at the thought of having to teach him. And hadn’t Dr. Cox been trying to get rid of him for the past few years anyway?

Besides, it wasn’t as if he’d wash his hands of Dr. Cox. He’d still value his opinion; The man was an amazing doctor after all. And maybe - if he worked his ass off and cramped in a few more study sessions after working his 9 to 5 in Pediatrics - Dr. Cox would finally come to regard him as an equal. 

Shaking himself out of his musings, JD gave a helpless shrug. 

“I don’t understand, Dr. Cox.”

“Just because you think the light shines out of someone’s ass doesn’t mean that you have to accept everything they do.” He paused, his eyes boring into his, and JD couldn’t quite shake the feeling that he was missing something. “What I’m saying, kid, is that it’s okay to tell them _no_ if they do something you don’t want to. We clear on that, Newbie?”

“I guess. Yeah.”

“Good.”

Dr. Cox nodded, seemingly satisfied with the turn of their conversation. _Well, that makes one of us then_, JD thought bitterly. He was about ready get out of there - head out of this strange purgatory of a situation and into the cold night air - when all of a sudden, Dr. Cox leaned forward and kissed him. 

It only lasted for a brief moment - during which JD was doing a brilliant imitation of a deer caught in the headlights, eyes wide-open and a strangled gasp caught in his throat - before Dr. Cox leaned back in his seat.

What the hell had just happened?

Sitting stock-still in fear of doing anything that could possibly break the spell of the moment, JD lowered his eyes to the floor. His heart was racing inside his chest, his hands trembling where they fisted in the scratchy fabric of his scrubs pants. His whole body was tingling from the aftershocks that Dr. Cox had just sent through his system - with such a simple, banal thing as a brief press of his lips to his, no less.

And god, he really was such a girl. 

“I - I don’t understand-”

“It’s okay to tell me no, Newbie.”

Realization hit him like a truck, full-on, dead-center. Suddenly, there was an onslaught of emotions rushing through him. Surprise and shock, followed by the feather-light tingle of wonder and all-encompassing _hope_. 

“No,” JD said.

As soon as the word had left his mouth, there was a sharp sound of chair legs scraping against the hardwood floor as Dr. Cox got up, presumably to head out of the bar - and probably out of JD's life, too. 

“I’m not telling you no,” he said quickly. “That’s what I meant.”

Dr. Cox stopped dead in his tracks and when JD finally raised his eyes, the look on Dr. Cox’s face - a mixture of relief and something warmer, something sweeter - let him know that he’d made the right decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because a) JD would make a great pediatrician and b) considering his rapport with Dr. Cox, I'm sure he'd get along with Dr. Norris like a house on fire.


	3. My Half-acre

“Newbie, why does administration have a wrong address on file for you?”

JD frowned and pressed the phone closer to his ear, ducking away from the nurse’s station and into an empty storage room. Ah, silence!

“What do you mean?”

“I thought we could stay at your place tonight since my behemoth of an ex-wife is in town and has taken over my apartment, and since my new shrink tells me that I should cut back on my _self-loathing tendencies_,” JD could practically hear the eye-roll and accompanying air quotes, “in order to one day - maybe, hopefully, let’s just keep our fingers crossed - become a functional human being that is _not_ emotionally stunted and incapable of feeling anything other than the three big A’s: anger, annoyance and absolutely justified irritation at the entire human race - I instead found myself thinking that I could have some peace and quiet by making use of the Jordan-free apartment of that pesky little plague that keeps sending me Valentines in mid-July.”

“Well, we weren’t dating back in February, and I thought you could use some lov-”

“A-ha-nyway, Margaret,” Dr. Cox went on. “Could you please, please, _please_, for the love of God tell me why I am being ogled by a bunch of old men singing Abba?”

“Oh, those are just the gays. They really know how to party.”

_But they don’t know how to clean up afterwards_, the voice inside his head finished mournfully.

There was a crackling sound that made him wonder whether the line was breaking up or - and this one was more likely - Dr. Cox was simply grinding his teeth in barely-contained vexation. If so, JD was in for a world of pain; Teeth grinding came third on the Coxian Richter scale, preceded by the often-observed combination of nose flick / arm-fold, and followed closely by a long-winded rant that would have JD crying into a pillow for the next two nights.

JD gulped. There really was no way to answer this and not get in trouble. Which meant that his only option was to dive head-first into what he called _the art of distraction_.

“Well, Per-Per,” JD began, puffing out his chest and affecting a tone that practically oozed smug. “I don’t mean to brag but you’re actually dating an illustrious landowner... Hell-o?”

The line had gone dead. Surely Dr. Cox would not have hung up on him on purpose? JD frowned, wondering if something had happened. Maybe the gays had taken him to Vegas?

Or maybe he should have mentioned the wolf that the janitor had let loose on his plot of land only a few days ago. Wolves ate people, right? Should he tell Carla to cover the last hour of his shift so he could head out on a rescue mission?

He was just about halfway into an elaborate daydream sequence featuring slobbering beasts, red capes and Dr. Cox brandishing an axe wearing nothing but tight jeans and a half-torn lumberjack shirt (though why Dr. Cox was doing all the rescuing while JD swooned in the background eluded him) when his phone rang once more.

“Dr. Cox?”

“Good God, Melissa. Please tell me this is one of your ri-hi-diculous pranks. Because I really don’t want to be dating a gal who lives in a tent with a dead dog and - is that a doormat made out of hospital scrubs?”

_Quick, change the subject!_

“Did you just hang up on me?”

“Cut it, Newbie. That might work on Barbie and your significant other seeing as their attention spans rival that of a brain-dead goldfish, but I’m not that easily distracted,” he growled and JD felt his shoulders sag in response. “So, wanna tell me what this is all about?”

JD sighed.

“Yeah, well, you know how Carla and Turk kicked me out? I just haven’t really gotten around to finding a new place yet.”

He swallowed, wishing that Dr. Cox were here with him so they could have this talk face-to-face. It’d be nice to be able to gauge his reaction, if only to anticipate whether he’d simply flick JD’s ear in irritation for not having told him about his troubles in the first place, or if he’d be more likely to roll his eyes and tell him to grow a pair and get his shit together already.

“I’m staying at your place most of the time anyway.”

His mumbled admission was met by the hum of static noise, and JD would have thought that he’d been hung up on once more if it weren’t for the calming notes of _Knowing me, knowing you_ that kept drifting through the speaker.

It was a while before Dr. Cox finally broke the silence with a defeated sigh.

“Maybe - and I can’t believe I’m actually saying this - you should stay at my place all of the time.”

JD squealed - in a manly way, of course - and grasped his chest, the flat of his palm resting against his rapidly pounding heart. This was the best day of his life (not counting the double decoder rings and that one time he met David Copperfield at a bar).

“Re-really?”

Dr. Cox growled. “Don’t make me regret it.”


	4. My Lunch

Watching Jack happily munch his fish fingers, JD wondered if this was what it’d been like to be the kid’s godfather.

He had been biding his time in the on-call room, flicking through medical journals and an issue of _Cosmopolitan_ which one of the nurses must have left lying around (and which had given him plenty of inspiration for making his own bath bombs, hell-o relaxing bath time), when Jack had tackled him to the ground, his feet kicking uncaringly into his abdomen as he chattered about the cool new action figure he’d gotten since the last time he’d seen JD.

Neither Dr. Cox nor Jordan had been anywhere in sight. JD supposed they were off fighting again; If the nurses’ rumor mill was to be believed, they were currently going through their third breakup - this time with the added difficulty of settling on a custody agreement. 

And well, if that was the truth then JD couldn’t really fault the kid for running off. Either way, he’d made it his personal mission to look after Jack until Dr. Cox’d track them down.

Which is how he'd ended up sitting at a table across from Jack, cutting his fish fingers into manageable, non-choking-hazard-sized pieces and making sure that he ate his greens as well. All the while, Jack kept staring at him with big, wide eyes. JD could practically see the wheels turning inside his head.

“What are you thinking about, Jackie-boy?”

Jack looked down at his plate, little fingers fiddling with his fork.

“Do you like my daddy?”

JD couldn’t help but smile. Well, that one was easy!

“I do.”

A bright grin stole over the boy’s features and he gave a short nod of his head, seemingly satisfied with JD’s answer. 

“Mommy said that daddy likes you lots.”

“I knew it!” JD beamed, his fist pumping in the air in a show of pure triumph. Man, did he feel vindicated. Everyone knew that children always spoke the truth - there was no way anyone could take this moment away from him. Ha, take that, Dr. Cox!

“Then,” Jack went on, his face scrunched up in thought. “If you like my daddy and my daddy likes you - can you make me a brother or sister?”

JD sputtered, his heart skipping a beat as his face twisted into an expression of unadulterated shock. Was this what it felt like to get hit by a train? A really big one that comes out of nowhere while you’re crossing the street to get your shopping done? 

“Uhm, well, that’s not... That’s not really how that works, I’m afraid.”

Jack pouted. 

“But daddy said that when two people like each other lots, they kiss and then they get a child.”

“Ah, well. If you put it like that. I suppose that _is _what happens,” he said lamely. Outsmarted by a four-year old. Just brilliant. Good thing Dr. Cox wasn’t there to see it because oh boy, he’d have a right field day with this one.

Across the table, Jack continued to beam at him. The smug glint in his eyes reminded him uncannily of Dr. Cox. Who - coincidentally - would no doubt kill him if he ever got wind of this conversation. Okay, so. No big deal. He’d just have to bundle Jack back up and leave him with Carla until Dr. Cox showed up, easy enough.

Except for the part where Dr. Cox threw a wrench in his plans by plopping down in the seat next to Jack, hand reaching out to ruffle his hair as the boy squealed in delight.

“Got waylaid by the she-devil. Thanks for watching him,” Dr. Cox shot him a quick glance before turning back to his son. “You looking chipper, Jack.”

Jack’s grin only brightened, eyes alight in a way that made JD think of the cat who managed to get its paws on the canary. Slowly, Dr. Cox turned to look at him for an explanation, a suspicious scowl etched onto his face that made JD squirm in his seat. He could even feel his cheeks starting to blush under his mentor’s scrutiny. Damnit. 

“He... uh, well he sorta talked me into getting him a sibling.”

Dr. Cox’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and JD braced himself for a full-blown rant, something along the lines of _oh, gee, Darla, that’s a nice thought right there but you do know - and I hope I’m not crushing your hopes when I say this, I really do - that even though I like to imply differently at least five times a day, you do nawt actually have the right girl-parts to do just that, don’t ya, Carol_.

However, this time Dr. Cox surprised him.

“Fair enough,” he said with a slight shrug of his shoulders. “Might want to start with dinner first though.”


	5. My First Date

JD stared across the table, Dr. Cox’s admission echoing through his head - which did a grand job at acting like a black void filled with nothing but static noise. For once there were no daydreams, no fanciful imaginations that got the best of him. Even the voice inside his head - usually the first to comment on the things happening around him - had fallen silent, shocked into speechlessness.

“You’re flirting with me.” He eventually repeated, careful to enunciate each syllable. Maybe they had somehow got lost in translation; Dr. Cox’s accent tended to become more pronounced after his second glass of scotch.

“Because I’m a girl?”

Dr. Cox groaned in exasperation.

“Because, Newbie - and I can’t believe I’m actually saying this, so please don’t make me repeat it ever again - for some unfathomable reason I like you,” he said, clearly uncomfortable if the grimace on his face was anything to go by. “Now be a doll and throw me a bone here, mkay?”

JD had just enough time to think - _now that sounds like the perfect set-up_ \- before the Todd popped up next to their table, both of his thumbs pointing directly towards his groin.

“I have a bone you can throw.”

Dr. Cox’s face twisted into a look of pure disgust and the accompanying growl was enough to send the Todd running back to the bar.

JD shook his head.

“I just don’t get it,” he finally said.

Which, alright, wasn’t completely truthful. Because in hindsight it’d explain quite a lot about Dr. Cox’s behavior these past few weeks. For example, why Dr. Cox had suddenly started to take an interest in his life, asking him questions about the things he liked (and once even sticking around long enough to actually listen to the answer instead of shooting him a tortured expression before walking off, shaking his head whilst muttering “I can’t do this. It’s simply too much to ask” under his breath).

Or why most of their conversations over the last few weeks had revolved around the number of push-ups Dr. Cox could do (not that JD had any indication of what exactly could be considered a particularly high or low number as he himself was only able to get to ten before deciding that he didn’t want to overdo it lest he’d look too ripped).

“Look, kid. What do you want me to say here? That I think you’re the most beautiful gal I’ve ever seen? That you make my heart go pitter-pat whenever you skip into the room? That I think the way you always ignore what I’m saying to drift off into another daydream about cotton candy and frilly dresses is actually endearing instead of downright annoying? That the only thing I want to do after pulling a double shift at work is to come home and have you be the big spoon while we watch reruns of _Gilmore Girls_?”

JD frowned, his face twisting into a pout. “Is any of that even remotely true?”

Dr. Cox shot him a deadpan look that basically said _surely even you cannot be that naive, Charlotte_.

They fell silent, and Dr. Cox went back to nursing his third glass of scotch while JD played absentmindedly with the slice of pineapple adorning his beer.

“Well,” JD says after a while. “I think I can safely say that this is officially my worst first date ever. It even beats the one I had with Kylie. And I was paying a homeless guy to fake a heart attack on that one.”

He watched the tension fade from Dr. Cox’s shoulders as the corner of his mouth tugged upwards. Probably against his will, too.

“Yeah? And how did that work out for you?”

JD shrugged. “Had to come clean when he started blackmailing me for more money.”

Dr. Cox snorted, but didn’t say anything more. JD wondered if he was rifling through his own list of first dates, looking for something that could possibly look even more disastrous in comparison to this mess they had stumbled into. But when he finally spoke up, Dr. Cox’s thoughts were set firmly on the present.

“First date, huh? We going to have another one then?”

JD grinned.

“Can’t say no to a guy who manages two hundred push-ups, can I?”

“Damn right, Suzy.”


	6. His Number One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 7x06

“That was mean.”

Perry clamped down on the onslaught of guilt JD had somehow conditioned him into feeling whenever he threw him that particular look – the one that caused a crease to appear between his brows, eyes dark with disappointment. As if he had somehow expected better of him. However, instead of letting it get to him (because really, where would that leave them if he’d roll over to expose his soft underbelly whenever the kid so much as pouted at him?), Perry tapped right into the hissing current of white-hot anger that ran just beneath his surface 24/7.

“Oh geez, Louise,” he said, his face twisted into a show of mock hurt. “I’m sorry if I hurt your delicate feelings with my careless comment there, I really am. But you know how I get whenever I have to do not only my own work but also that of your ever-giggling gaggle of incompetent interns, who – for some unknown reason, no really, please tell me _why_ – decided to page _me_ whenever their mother hen is not there to hold their hands. So maybe we could have avoided this if you had simply been doing your job for once instead of running off to buy some chocolate frosting and funny little party hats for Mrs. Barrington’s surprise birthday party.”

JD remained silent and Perry did his best not to look at him lest he’d get a full blast of the soul-crushing disappointment he’d no doubt find in the kid’s eyes. It was just like staring directly into the burning sun – absolutely imbecilic and bound to leave him aching. Besides, if JD’d see his face he might figure out what exactly had been grinding his nerves all day. The kid had this uncanny (and frankly downright annoying) ability to see right through his usual antics.

“Is this about that website?” JD asked eventually, and Perry suppressed a groan. See? “You know I’m only number one because of my bedside manner, right? It’s not like I’m necessarily the best doctor skills-wise-“

“Yeah, yeah, Lisa. Please spare me the whole _go the extra mile_ thing because if I have to sit through that speech again I might just spontaneously combust.”

JD glared at him and – ah yes, there it was: Newbie’s best imitation of an angry person. Blazing eyes and a scowl that might have worked on the other girl scouts at camp but hadn’t nearly enough ire behind it to actually frighten a-ha-ny grown-up.

“Look, if a customer walks into a fast food chain they don’t rate the food because they know that it’s going to be exactly the same no matter which branch they go to. What they _do_ rate is the customer service,” JD said slowly, his tone surprisingly stern as if telling a toddler why exactly it was bad to push the other kids off the swing. “It’s the same for hospitals. The patients _expect_ to get healthy - it’s a given. What’s _not_ a given is how friendly or charming or – well, boyishly handsome – their doctor is.”

He gave him a small smile which Perry recognized for the peace offering it was. All he’d have to do was throw him one in return and he’d be forgiven for his little outburst. They’d make up before grabbing lunch at the cafeteria, playing footsie under the table while he pretended to be annoyed at having to suffer through JD’s company.

But of course things weren’t that simple. After all, he was a self-sabotaging bastard who couldn’t hold on to something good if it super-glued itself to him. So of course he just had to go and ruin it all.

“Well, thanks for the prep talk, Angela. We finished now?”

JD’s face fell and the sudden sag of his shoulders caused a stab of guilt in Perry’s chest, his heart clenching at the sight.

“Whatever, Perry.”

He watched as JD spun on his heels and walked away, head held high because they both knew damn well that he was in the right.

“Lover’s quarrel?” Carla’s voice piped up from somewhere beside him, sounding entirely too smug. Really, he should probably be glad that Ghandi wasn’t around or else he’d get another one of those unsolicited couple lectures the two were so keen on handing out like free candy in Pediatrics. Then again… considering Ghandi’s own frustration with the rating website Perry was almost certain that this time he wouldn’t stick with JD’s side of the argument.

“You going to fix it?”

Perry sighed. “Can you cover my next shift? I have to… do something.”

An hour later he tracked the kid down in the break room. JD didn’t even look up when he entered the room, his eyes remaining glued to the journals and research papers strewn about the table in front of him. He was still angry, then. Point taken.

Slowly, Perry approached the table, pointedly clearing his throat before holding out his offering. God, this whole situation made him feel like a schoolboy presenting his crush with a measly flower. Absolutely pathetic.

JD glanced up at him and Perry did his best to put on an apologetic face (but dammit, the kicked puppy look just worked so much better with JD’s doe-eyes) before lowering his gaze to the mug of steaming coffee in his hand.

“Thought you could use this.”

Reflexively, JD made to reach for the coffee before his hand came to an abrupt stop in mid-air that let him know that the kid had finally noticed the lettering on the mug’s side. The print was still fresh, proudly proclaiming _#1 doctor_ in a bright, bold font. JD’s reaction was immediate. Within mere seconds, a massive grin split over his features, and – Perry grimaced internally at the thought; he really was going soft – all of a sudden it felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

“Really?”

“You earned it, kid.” And then – although he was certain that he’d already been forgiven – he added in a quiet voice, “I was being an ass. I’m sorry.”

Somehow, impossibly, JD’s smile brightened even more. A moment later he jumped to his feet, his research seemingly forgotten, to steer Perry out into the hallway and towards one of the patient rooms.

“Come on, we’re late for Mrs. Barrington’s party. I want to show off my new mug!”

Perry made a great show of complaining all the way to the party.


	7. My Soulmate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1x15; Soulmate AU

JD fidgeted in his seat. The beat-up cushions of the break room couch were digging uncomfortably into the small of his back with every move, every shift of his body. His eyes kept flitting around the room as if the camera poised right in front of him would magically disappear if he’d just refrain from acknowledging its existence. 

Dr. Winston gave him an encouraging smile, his pen hovering a mere inch above his writing pad. JD briefly wondered if he’d gotten anything of interest for his research project yet, or if his confessions would mark a notable turning point. 

“The reason I became a doctor...” JD trailed off, biting his lip in thought. He had never told anyone before. Aside from Turk, of course. It was hard to hide something this monumental and potentially life-changing from your best friend. 

“I- Well, I guess I should probably say that it’s because I wanted to help people. Which I do! I _do _want to make people better, so that’s… that’s one of the reasons, I suppose. But uhm…” 

He lowered his gaze into his lap where his fingers were fiddling with the left sleeve of the old button-down he was wearing underneath his scrubs. The inside of his wrist was itching beneath the cotton, and JD wondered if the script over his pulse point was burning itself even deeper into his skin. 

_ Place an IV for me. _

“I wanted to become a doctor because that’s what my s∞lmark says,” he said eventually, his tone soft as if that’d somehow keep the camera’s microphone from picking up the words. “That’s how I knew I’d go into medicine. Because I wanted to find my s∞lmate.” 

If only his s∞lmate were interested in being found. 

Well, JD supposed it wasn’t so much the being-found part that proved difficult, but rather convincing his s∞lmate to actually give him a shot. Because Dr. Cox had made it abundantly clear – on numerous occasions, no less – that he was just not interested. At all. If the blazing eyes and cutting rants about the commercialization of _that crazy little thing called love, Janet, please oh __puh__-lease, spare me _hadn’t been enough to tip him off, then the discouraging words on the inside of his wrist would have surely done the trick: _Hi, doctor, I’m _

Add to that the fact that JD had taken quite a while to show up in Dr. Cox’s life and he really couldn’t fault the man for having given up somewhere down the line. 

After all, JD remembered all too well the brushes he himself had had with fledgling love during the years he’d spent at medical school. How his heart would stutter to a halt whenever someone so much as mentioned placing an IV. Now imagine having to go through that same flutter of hope – the anticipation, the longing, the heart-whole desperation – for _decades _whenever someone tried to introduce themselves to you. 

It’d be enough to break any man. 

“They’re not interested. In this whole s∞lmark stuff, I mean.” 

JD shrugged. 

“They’ve got this really generic script, which works just fine for them because they can just ignore it whenever someone says it. It makes things a lot easier, I guess. Not having to care.” 

JD swallowed past the lump in his throat. For a brief moment, he allowed the waves of misery to come crashing down on him, pulling him under as they filled his heart to the brim with bitterness and blinding heartache. Sometimes, it was all too much. 

Taking a deep breath, JD looked up and forced a bright smile onto his face. After all, that was what he always did whenever someone asked him why he hadn’t found them yet, his special someone. 

(_“Say, Elise, aren’t you getting tired of donning on your ridiculous hair and make-up every goddamn day in the hope that Prince Charming will finally show up, throw you over that white steed of his, and carry you off into the sunset and – incidentally – as far, far, far away from me as humanely possible?” _

_ “It’ll be worth the wait.”_) 

“It’s alright though. I’ll just have to wear them down.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm afraid that instead of emphasizing the soulmarks, the ∞ just made JD sound like he's working at IKEA.


	8. My Jiggly Ball

“You – ah – you know what would be really hot?” JD gasped as he broke away from their kiss, trying hard to focus as Dr. Cox moved on to his neck instead, teeth scraping against the sensitive spot just below his left ear. “If – if we turned off the lights.” 

(JD could practically hear the record scratch.) 

Slowly, Dr. Cox leaned back to look at him, his eyebrows raised in suspicion. 

“I know that those women’s magazines you like to go through for their make-up tips and the does-he-love-me-oh-please-does-he tests – the ones I generously pretend not to notice you hunching over as if they were the gospel truth, mind you – tell you to preserve your innocence at a-ha-ny and all cost, but my God, Charlene, I fear it’s a bit too late for that since,” his tone dropped to a hoarse whisper that caused JD’s spine to tingle in anticipation. “I’ve already seen you naked, Newbie.” 

“It’s not that-” 

JD let out a high-pitched squeak as Dr. Cox’s hands fisted in the flimsy fabric of his scrubs top to pull it over his head – only to stop dead in his tracks. 

“Newbie, what the hell...” 

“Ah,” JD said eloquently. Well, so much for hoping that the lacerations had subsided by now. But judging from the murderous look on Dr. Cox’s face they were still very much visible, and – yes, JD grudgingly noted as he looked down at himself – still an angry-red against the pale skin of his stomach and chest. 

“I sorta got roped into a round of jiggly ball.” 

“That another game you and your black wife came up with? Because if so, I don’t care how long you two have been braiding each other’s hair because I’ll have to insist that you stop your little playdates until I’ve had the time to punch him in the face.” 

_ Okay, don’t get all mushy just because he threatened to punch someone for hurting you! Act cool, J-dawg, you’ve got this! _

However, what came out of his mouth instead was: “Aw, that’s so sweet of you!” 

Well, he tried. 

Dr. Cox growled at him – his face set into an impatient scowl, eyes narrowed and the vein on his neck throbbing dangerously – and JD gulped as he hastened to explain. 

“It was the janitor. He made up this stupid game and I was too proud to admit that I’d never heard of it, so I said that I’d be up for playing a round during my break.” 

“Looks like a fun game,” Dr. Cox snorted, a slightly manic glint in his eyes. “How does one play? Throw tennis balls at a person until they’re down?” 

JD squirmed in his seat but stayed silent. 

“...That’s exactly how it’s played, amiright?” 

JD shrugged and tried for a reassuring smile. He hadn’t wanted to talk about it exactly, secretly fearing that Dr. Cox would berate him for being so gullible, but now he was glad that it was all out in the open and they could move on with their night – maybe move it to the bedroom, too. There was this thing he’d seen on Discovery Channel which he’d been wanting to try, and – Wait – 

“Where are you going?” 

“Getting some frozen peas,” Dr. Cox grumbled as he entangled himself from their position on the couch. “Still gonna punch that jackass in the face tomorrow though.” 


	9. His Quickie

“Dr. Cox, do you want to have a quickie?” 

He flipped the chart closed and dragged his eyes up to the pesky little nuisance leaning casually against the nurse’s station next to him. 

Well, he supposed that he could spare a bit of time. He still had another twenty minutes left before he’d have to lead rounds - a chore which was becoming more grueling with every year he spent at this dumpster fire of a hospital. Somehow, the latest batch of interns had managed to surpass even Nervous Guy’s penchant for forwarding patients into body bags.

Now that he thought about it a quick fumble in the supply closet sounded like a wonderful way to quench the ever-flowing current of rage that kept gurgling in his veins. 

“Sure.” 

He was debating which supply closet they should go for (the one on the second floor was closer, but the one in Radiology sported a working lock) when JD shoved a plate in his face. 

“What. Is. That.” 

“The quickie? You know, one of those tart things?” JD frowned. “I had a piece earlier. I think it’s carrots and pumpkin - it’s really good.” 

Dr. Cox groaned. His fingers were itching to raise the chart and slam it repeatedly against his head. How the hell was he dating this one? 

“That’s a _quiche_, Kathleen. A damn quiche. With a _sh_-sound. You know, the one I make whenever you open your girly little mouth to babble on and on and _on _about your crush and how absolutely adorable he looks with his new haircut-” 

“I told you it’d look nice if you grew it out a bit.” 

“- and I blame myself for this, I really do, because for some reason I was under the impression that your medical degree - and God knows how you got it in the first place, Marlene, tell me, did you just walk into the dean’s office, pull up your skirt, and think of England - awarded you with just enough common sense to pronounce monosyllabic words that wouldn’t pose a challenge to a speech-impaired first grader.” 

JD seemed unfazed by his rant. “What’s a quickie then?” 

“Oh-hoo, Newbie.” He could feel his lips stretching into a shark-like grin as he grabbed JD’s wrist and started dragging him towards the nearest supply closet. “I’ll show you.” 


	10. His Old Age

“I don’t want to break up with him.”

Carla snorted in amusement. He should have known that she wouldn’t understand. 

“And why would you?” She said, bustling happily around the room like she didn’t have a care in the world. “Things are great between you. You don’t drink as much anymore; you’ve been a lot nicer to the interns. I think I even saw you _smile _the other day.” 

Perry groaned and tried to sit up – which proved to be a fatal mistake. The pain that shot through his back was immediate and unforgiving. The worst thing was that he had known that he shouldn’t show off at basketball. The last time he had thrown out his back was still fresh in his mind; it had been absolute hell. But Newbie had been there, had leaned against the railing with that dreamy expression on his face and that adoring spark in his eyes, looking at him like he was some sort of demi-god. 

It did things to him. 

“He’s just so damn _young_,” Perry whined and Carla laughed. 

“Oh yeah,” she said, sounding annoyingly blasé about his impending breakup. “You’re really robbing the cradle.” 

“The other day, he sent me an eggplant sign on his phone,” Perry said, making sure to keep his voice low as if whispering somehow made the whole thing less embarrassing. “And I picked some up from the grocer’s.”

“So?” 

Perry shot her a confused look. It soon morphed into one of pity when he realized that Carla, too, wasn’t as young as the kids. 

“Oh, Carla.” 

Wrong thing to say, apparently. Carla gave an indignant huff. She was looking less sympathetic by the minute – which was really bad for him. Because if she decided that she no longer had the time for his little self-pity party, she would call Newbie in. And Perry really, really couldn’t afford for him to realize that he had shacked up with a sad, old guy whose body was turning into a weeks-old vegetable.

“Bambi’s not going to leave you just because you’re no longer able to wipe the floor with the other basketball players,” Carla said. She had tugged her hands into the sides of her hips and adopted her patented no-nonsense tone. “He _will _leave you if you start keeping secrets from him. He’ll feel absolutely awful once he finds out you’ve been in pain and he wasn’t around to make you feel better. So, will you just quit whining and page him already or do you want me to do it for you?” 

Perry rolled his eyes. “I can page Ginger myself, thanks.” 

Still, he waited until she had left the room before he picked up the pager. He should have asked Carla to throw it into his line of sight; he had to twist around to grab it out of his coat pocket which resulted in yet another flash of paralyzing pain tearing through his body. 

_ You free? Back is acting up. Room 201. _

The reply didn’t take long, and – unsurprisingly – it even managed to startle a laugh out of him. 

_ bringing ice. also know sth to cheer u up 🍆 _


	11. His Quarantine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 4x16

“I mean, Carla isn’t even that attractive.” Dr. Cox huffed out a laugh, hoping that he didn’t come across as sarcastic. Hell, Newbie was the one who had been to theater camp, not him. “It’s just that I’m into feisty women. You should know that, Fiona.” 

He threw JD a flirtatious smile – complete with a wink and all – but it seemed to bounce right off him. He still looked as despondent and downtrodden as he had ever since he had accidentally started this damned lock-down. 

At first, he had simply thought that Newbie might be worried he’d be angry with him. Granted, this wasn’t his idea of a fun evening, but what the hell. Nothing to it now. However, any chances that JD was simply feeling guilty or off had flown out the window when Dr. Cox had tried to corner him in one of the empty patient rooms for a quick make out session – only to be shut right down when JD had dodged his advances, claiming that he had patients to see to. 

It wasn't until Ghandi'd confronted him about his date with Carla that he realized the actual reason behind Newbie’s gloom. He must have somehow overheard his recollection of their date, and that was why he was feeling dejected now. Really, of all the things! There was absolutely no reason to be jealous; there hadn’t been anything between him and Carla, it had been nothing but an unrequited crush. It certainly didn’t even come close to what he was feeling for JD. 

“Are you saying you don’t think Carla is pretty?” 

This felt like a trap. Should he say yes and risk Carla’s wrath? Or should he say no even if it probably meant not getting any for a month? 

But JD spared him from having to answer. 

“I think she’s really pretty.” 

_ What the…? _

Dr. Cox shot him an annoyed look. “Sorry to tell you this, but she’s already taken. And incidentally, so are you, Sheila.” 

“Am I though?” JD asked and Dr. Cox didn’t even have the time to analyze the tone of his voice before a rush of fear and hot-white anger raced through him, numbing him completely. 

“Oh-ho, look it, Mabel, I know that you have a truly horrendous track record when it comes to this whole relationship thing, but are you seriously this stupidly, mind-numbingly cruel that you’ll break up with me at _work_?” 

JD’s head whipped towards him, his eyes ripped wide-open. 

“What?”

Dr. Cox held his ground. He wanted nothing more than to storm off and take a sledgehammer to the labs. But he knew that if he left now, left things as they were – half-broken and in desperate need of mending – everything would be lost. And he couldn’t risk that. JD couldn’t… He couldn’t leave him. He just couldn’t. 

“That’s not – I’m not breaking up with you!” 

“Then why are you saying we’re not dating?” 

“Because we’ve never been on an actual date,” JD said, the words tumbling together in his rush to get them out.

“You’re not mad I went on a date with Carla,” Dr. Cox said as realization dawned on him. “You’re mad because I didn’t go on a date with _you_.” 

“Well, yeah.” JD shrugged. “You’ve never actually bothered to take me out. Or_ I _haven’t taken _you _out. Whatever. Look, I know it’s stupid, but… When you talked about your date with Carla, I realized that we didn’t have a first date story. We don’t even have a second or third date story. Which is frankly ridiculous because we’ve been together for months now.” 

One of JD’s interns – moment-ruining, useless apes, the lot of them – popped his head into the room, his shoulders tense as if he expected to be forcefully removed. 

“D-Dr. Dorian? Can you help me with my patient?”

“Yeah, sure.” 

JD threw him one last look – kicked puppy eyes and slumped shoulders, and Dr. Cox felt a sharp stab of guilt twisting through him. 

“JD.” He watched as JD paused in the doorway. “Will you have dinner with me tomorrow night?” 

It took a few seconds, but when the smile finally stretched over JD’s features - impossibly wide and so very, very happy – his heart melted. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've wanted to write this ever since I re-watched the episode.


	12. My Baby's Other Daddy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 7x08

> _ “How did you get Sam out of daycare?” _ _  
_ _ “Put on a wig and a skirt, and told them I was you.”  
_(7x08)

“Bye, Sammy. Be good for daddy.” 

JD waved as one of the daycare workers carried Sammy off to play with the other babies. Truth be told, he was feeling pretty pleased with himself. The first time he had dropped him off, JD had sobbed like a child who had just been told that Santa didn’t exist. Now he managed to hold it together until he had made it to his car. Progress. 

Still, there was just one more thing to take care of before he headed back to work. Turning away from Sammy, JD headed for the reception desk. The woman behind it offered him a warm smile. 

“Hello, how can I help you?” 

“Hey Monique,” JD said, glancing at her nametag. “I’m Sam’s father, John Dorian. I don’t want to make a fuss, but I thought I was the only one who was allowed to pick him up from daycare. I had to sign a lot of papers.” 

“Oh.” Monique pursed her lips in thought. “Is this about the other day when your husband picked him up?” 

“My what now?” 

“Your husband,” Monique said. “Tall, broad-shouldered and handsome? Curly hair and blue eyes? He said you must have forgotten to put him on the list of approved guardians.” 

JD stared at her in disbelief. His body had shut itself down, the word _husband _echoing inside his head like a faulty record. 

“He was really nice about it though,” Monique went on, clearly unaware of the fact that she had just pulled the rug out from under his feet. The dreamy expression on her face wasn’t helping either. “You’re really lucky, he seems like a great guy! Super sweet.” 

His eyes widened even further. Did Dr. Cox have a twin brother he didn't know about? Surely no one had ever used those words to describe him before. Just no. 

“Yeah, thanks for – thanks for your help,” JD mumbled. Words, he thought. How did one use them again? “I have to go now. To see my husband. To talk. About stuff. So, yeah.” 

He turned away and headed for the door, unsure what to make of the sudden flutter inside his chest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean... we have to assume that's what happened.


	13. His Home

_Honey, I’m home_, Perry thought as he threw his keys on the table and kicked the door shut behind him. The living room was empty, the lights dimmed to a dull glow. The air smelled faintly like home-made lasagna, and Jack’s toys had been neatly tugged-away on one of the shelves. JD must have gotten quite a lot done on his day off.

Throwing a quick glance in the direction of the bedroom, Perry noted a small strip of light peeking out from beneath the door. Newbie wasn’t asleep then. 

Flinging his jacket across the back of the sofa, Perry wondered if he could work with that. Use it as an opener. Something along the lines of _ really, Susannah, next you’ll be waiting for me in a frilly 50s dress and hair-do, sing-songing how you’ve missed me a-ha-all day long – _and that was all he had got. But god, he was exhausted and coming up with clever rants was impossible after a twenty-hour shift. 

It didn’t help that lately, his mind revolved less around which of Newbie’s quirks he could mock and more around what delightful thing they might try in bed next. Or how to tread the fine, fine line between upholding his strict no-public-displays-of-affection rule and making Ghandi’s homophobic ass as uncomfortable as possible. 

With a sigh, Perry fixed himself a glass of Scotch before heading for the bedroom. 

JD was sitting in the middle of the bed, his hair ruffled and slightly damp from the shower. He seemed to be enthralled in his book, chewing on his bottom lip as his eyes flitted across the pages of _Hockey for Dummies_. Perry couldn’t help but notice that he was wearing those ridiculous ninja turtle pyajams again (he would have thrown them out a long time ago if it wasn’t for the fact that Jack – who clearly idolized JD and everything he did – had insisted on getting a matching set). 

When JD spotted him standing in the doorway, his whole face lit up. 

The sight sent a rush of warmth through him. It wasn’t so much the fact that JD looked right at home in his bed, cozy and content, but rather that JD _himself _ looked like home.

“Hey Honey,” Perry said and for once the words weren’t dripping with sarcasm. “I’m home.” 


	14. Our Parenting Worries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a-little-drop-of-rain prompted: how about some hurt/comfort surrounding something happening to one of their kids? Who holds up the brave face and who breaks down in the hallway?

**I.**

JD almost walked past the room. Truth be told, he had expected more: heavily-armed guards and a handpicked team of on-call nurses, each trained in a top-secret government facility that specialized in the medical care of children. But Jack Cox’s hospital room looked remarkably like any other – except that it also looked like someone had robbed Sacred Heart’s hospital shop and dumped its merchandise all over Jack’s bed and nightstand. 

Leaning against the doorway, JD took in the glowing nightlight, the assortment of teddy bears, the many get-well-soon cards. And the little boy in the hospital bed, looking lost and forlorn. Jack was still awake, nursing a mug of hot chocolate. His hair was all sticky-uppy; Dr. Cox must have ruffled it in an attempt to cheer him up. 

When Jack noticed him, he gave him a small wave. There was a redness to his eyes that tugged at JD’s heart. 

“You okay, Champ?” 

“My tummy hurts.” 

“I bet it does,” JD said, his voice warm with sympathy. “Mine hurt a lot when they removed my appendix.” 

“Janice?” Jack looked at him with big eyes. “Were you… were you scared?” 

“Can I tell you a secret, Jack?” He asked in a conspiratorial whisper. “I was very scared. But I didn’t need to be. The doctors here are the best and your dad is making sure that you get the best care in the world. Plus, you’ll have a super cool scar! The other kids will be jealous!” 

The corners of his lips twitched, and soon enough Jack was smiling shyly up at him. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Thank you,” Jack said. And then, a moment later, “JD.” 

  


**II.**

“Psssh, Carla!” 

He watched as Carla whirled around, her eyes flying over him – once, twice – before they widened in realization. 

“Dr. Cox? What are you wearing?” 

Perry drew the hem of his fishing hat lower, almost knocking off the pair of tinted sunglasses in the process. 

“I don’t want anyone to see me.” 

Carla rolled her eyes. “Because you don’t want the interns to pester you?” 

“Nnno, because-” He cut himself off and clenched his teeth, looking furtively around to make sure that the coast was clear. He didn’t have the time to deal with any witnesses. “I need your help.” 

He hoisted Sammy further onto his hip. In a truly desperate attempt to disguise him, Perry had dressed him up in a lion’s costume. It was the same onesie Jennifer Dylan had worn to Halloween the year before. 

“Oh, hi Sammy. Don’t you look adorable!” Carla cooed as she reached out to ruffle the fluffed-up lion’s mane. 

“We were on the playground and he fell over.” 

Carla blinked at him. 

“He _fell over_, Carla.” 

Still no reaction. Was he speaking in tongues? 

“Carla, Newbie is going to kill me,” he said slowly. “He’ll file for custody and - because _he _isn’t an emotionally-crippled narcissist with a drinking problem and three restraining orders to his name - he _will _win. Which means I’ll be forced to sneak around the playground, hanging back in the bushes with the perverts if I ever want to see Sammy again.” 

“Okay wow,” Carla said, shaking her head as if she’d just come out of one of Newbie’s patented daydreams. “There’s so much to unpack here, I don’t even know where to start.” 

“How about you start by helping me fix him up?” 

“He looks fine to me.” 

“Fine?” Perry said, his words coming out a bit high-pitched. “You call this fine? His cheek is all scraped-up!” 

She rolled her eyes but leaned in to examine the damage anyway. 

“You mean that teeny-tiny scrape on his cheek? This one here?” 

“I’ve disfigured him, Carla.” 

“I’ve seen worse scrapes on Jack.” 

“Yeah, but that-” He cut himself off, realizing how stupid he sounded. It wasn’t that he loved Jack any less than Sammy. It was just that... well, Newbie had trusted him. Trusted that he would look after Sammy and return him in one piece. And he had _failed_. 

Carla sent him one of her looks – stern and judgmental. It made him feel like an insect caught underneath the cellophane glass of a microscope. Vulnerable. 

“JD isn’t going to take Sammy away from you because – believe it or not – you’re as much a father to Sammy as JD is. Now take off that stupid hat and help me find the Spiderman band-aids.” 

Perry grumbled under his breath but followed her anyway. “Do you have any Frozen ones? Sammy likes those better.” 

  


** III. **

A cup of coffee entered his view. Coal-black and steaming, and just what he’d needed. 

“Thanks, Newbie.” 

JD plopped down in the chair next to him, legs stretched out and shoulders brushing up against his. Somehow his presence was enough to weaken the ache in his chest, the coiled tension in his shoulders. 

It gave him enough strength to voice the worst of his thoughts. 

“What if-” 

“She’ll be fine,” JD said with such confidence that – for the first time – Perry understood how worried parents felt when they talked to a doctor. How much they needed the constant reassurances, the coddling and the consolation. The hope. “She’ll be back to adding new crayon masterpieces to our bedroom wall in no time.” 

A strangled laugh escaped his throat. 

“Yeah,” he said, allowing himself to believe it. To believe that just this once, everything would work out in his favor. 

With a sigh, he slowly reached out to entwine their fingers in JD’s lap. It stopped his hands from shaking, and even managed to calm the frantic racing of his heart. 

And, he supposed, it was good to know that he wasn’t alone. 


	15. His Hug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a-little-drop-of-rain prompted: in 7.08 the janitor publishes a false editorial about Dr. Cox wanting hugs. Dr. Cox is beset upon by the staff with back pats which he absolutely loathes. We know he doesn’t like touching from other people, and with his history of abuse we might even know why, with J.D. seeming to be the exception. I’d love to know the aftermath. Does he seek JD out or push him away? Or...?

He didn’t have a lot of rules. No talking to him, no touching him. No Hugh Jackman paraphernalia in his immediate vicinity. And, of course, the golden rule: no hugs. They should have been easy enough to respect and follow. So why was it that Newbie seemed to delight in violating every single one of them? 

Newbie was sending him fearful looks from across the room. Perry could see the slight tremble in his hands where they worked to attach the IV. He was making slow work of it, and any other day Perry would have told him to_ get a move on Veronica, didn’t your mommy teach you that it’s rude to leave people waiting_. 

But right now he welcomed his dilly-dallying. Because for the first time, he wasn’t quite sure what he was going to do. Any punishment he could think of felt inadequate. Hell, the last time the kid had tried to touch him (a pat on the shoulder; foolish, really) he had almost broken his fingers. If all else failed, he supposed he could fall back on his go-to punishment: rattling him out to the janitor. Quick, efficient, impersonal. 

But… 

For some reason, he wasn’t sure that’s what he wanted. 

He stole a quick glance at JD. He had moved on to checking the vitals, making sure that Mrs. Callahan was holding up okay. The look in his eyes was dark, focused. If Perry didn’t know any better, he’d almost mistake him for a competent doctor. Professional and knowledgeable. Someone he’d trust with his life. 

There was a clenching sensation in his chest. A sort of… yearning. 

“Dr. Cox?” 

He looked up to see JD standing in front of him, a contrite expression on his face. 

“Can we just get it over with?” 

There was a quiver in his lips, barely-noticeable. So JD wasn’t feeling as brave as he’d like him to believe. Well, he should have thought about the consequences before he’d tried to get a hug out of him. Perry hated being close to people, everyone knew that. 

_ But it wasn’t so bad_, a small voice inside his head piped up. _When the kid pulled you close… it felt almost nice_. Warm and soft, and yet lean and protective. 

Maybe – and Jesus H. Christ on a bicycle, he couldn’t believe that he was actually considering this – maybe he’d even like to do it again. Wrap his arms around the kid and pull him close, rest his head on top of his. He could almost feel the hair brushing against his cheek, the scent of lavender tickling his nose. JD’d gasp in surprise, a slight hitch in his breath, before nestling further into his warmth. Making him feel safe. _Loved_. 

Should he… Yeah. He should just go ahead and try it. To prove to himself that none of this was real. That he was just imagining things. That he didn’t care for JD, and that holding him tight would make him feel just as uncomfortable as being close to anybody else. 

Perry nodded to himself. His fingers twitched as his arms opened, and-- 

Wait, where was JD? 

“He left,” Mrs. Callahan said from the bed, her brows arched up in silent judgement. “Squealed and said something about ‘not being able to stand the apprehension’ before storming out.” 

“Yeah,” Perry said, a long-suffering groan lodged in his throat. “Sounds about right.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternative ending: Dr. Cox goes all-in and follows through with the hug, only to realize that he's not hugging JD - who has left sometime during his internal monologue - but the janitor who has come to discuss the next issue of the Janitorial. Cue JD being an indignant puppy because how dare Dr. Cox hug the janitor - of all people!


	16. My Amnesia

“It’s nice to see that some things never change.” 

JD looked up from his work. He hadn’t realized that Perry had woken up and was now staring at him with bleary eyes. He looked so vulnerable, drowsy and dazed. His hair was flattened from sleep, sticking to the side of his head in tightly-wound curls, and JD's fingers itched to trace the sleep-lines on his face, the little wrinkles left behind from the pressure of his pillow.

He'd probably be out again before too long. The car crash had wreaked havoc on his body and his system was still pumped-up with morphine.

That’s right, JD told himself, his condition would probably improve once he was off his meds. 

Maybe then he’d remember the last seven years. 

Perry gave a low groan as he struggled to sit up. JD had to stop himself from rushing to his side, certain that his help would be unwelcome. Perry was a proud bastard on the best of days and right now, JD was nothing to him: just another annoying intern who lived to make his life hell. 

“Yeah, well,” JD said, looking down at the tuft of pink tulle in his lap. He had somehow managed to sew it to his pants and was now trying to undo his needlework. To no avail. “It’s Halloween soon and my daughter wanted to dress up as a space princess. I’m not even sure what that’s supposed to be, I’m guessing it just means more glitter.” 

Perry stared at him. 

“You have a daughter?” He asked, his voice tight. “You’ve – what, actually grown up? And here I thought that beard was just a ploy to cover up your baby fat.” 

JD couldn’t help but smile. “You said something similar the first time around.” 

Perry gave a non-committal hum, clearly too tired to fake interest, and began to shift around the bed, rearranging the pillows as best as he could. 

“Barbie said you managed to get out of this dump?” 

“I’m working at St. Vincent now. The hours are much better.” He hesitated. “My other half works way too much, so I – well, you’d say that I have to play housewife and look after the children.” 

“Your wife sounds like a right shrew.” 

JD laughed. “If you only knew.” 

They fell silent and when JD looked up again, Perry had already drifted off. He stayed for another half-hour before packing his things. It was almost time to pick Sammy up from the boy scouts anyway. 

Elliot caught him as he walked out of the room. “Did you tell him?” 

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Didn’t feel like the right time.” 

It was a pitiful excuse and they both knew it. Still, JD would give anything to drag it out even longer. He dreaded seeing the inevitable look of horror and disgust on Perry’s face when he finally told him that they had been together for the last two years. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See the comments for extended thoughts and headcanons of this verse.


	17. His I Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a-little-drop-of-rain prompted: The closest on the series (that I’ve noticed) J.D. and Perry have come to professing their feelings for each other is with “I’m proud of you” (both scenes had me teary eyed). I just have a hard time believing emotionally stunted Perry Cox would be able to confess “I love you” at every turn. Overcome hugging took years for him. So maybe one time Perry said he was proud of JD, one time JD was proud of Perry, and perhaps just one time someone said the actual three words...

“Thanks for coming to hang out with us tonight.” Newbie locked the door behind them before toeing off his shoes. “I know it’s not exactly your favorite thing.” 

“Whatever, Rachel.” 

“No, really.” JD turned to him. There was an odd look in his eyes, surprisingly dark and intense. Imploring. “I’m proud of you.” 

Perry was halfway through a dismissive nod when he realized that Newbie’s words didn’t make any sense. He was proud of him? For what, hanging out with his imbecilic friends? For not getting punch-drunk and making a scene? For being civil for once? 

“Going out with your little cheerleading squad isn’t exactly praiseworthy. Although to be fair, it _did _take a lot of effort not to strangle Barbie when she got so drunk that she thought your lap made a comfy seat.” 

“No, that’s not… That’s not what I meant.” JD looked puzzled, like he couldn’t quite make sense of the turn their conversation had taken. Welcome to the party, Dolores. 

“I meant…” He trailed off, clearly hesitant. “Nevermind. I must have gotten it wrong.” 

Perry groaned. And to think that he had fooled himself into believing that dating a man – even one as girly as Newbie – would be simpler. 

He whistled and watched as JD jumped at the piercing sound. When he turned back to face him his eyes were wild, a stormy sea of teal. 

“I thought… I mean, we always do this thing. With the… And when I say ‘I’m proud of you’, that’s what I… But I guess I got it wrong and it was just that.” 

“Mary-Ann, I hope you realize that none of that made sense.” 

Newbie groaned in frustration, fingers carding through his hair and leaving the fringes sticking up in all directions. 

“I thought,” he began again, more slowly and deliberate. Each word heavy with meaning. “I thought that whenever one of us says ‘I’m proud of you’, that’s our way of saying ‘I love you’. But I guess I got it wrong.” 

He didn’t know what to say. His mind had gone blank, a vista of white noise. The kid thought... 

“That’s real stupid, Jessica.” He managed to say eventually. The patronizing smile was firmly back in place because for some reason the thought of having this conversation in a non-sarcastic, non-spiteful manner terrified him. 

“It I wanted to tell you that I lo-” He cut off abruptly, the words stuck in his mouth. He tried again only to find that he couldn’t say it. Each time, his throat constricted and it felt like all the air was sucked out of his lungs. 

He looked to Newbie for help, unable to make sense of the sudden weight on his shoulders, the iron fist that seemed to clench around his heart.

“It’s alright,” JD said. “I don’t mind. When I was five, Dan invited me to play hide-and-seek with him and his friends. I hid inside a closet in the attic – and yes, I know. Ironic. I stayed in there for hours, waiting for Dan to come and find me. Turns out they weren’t actually looking. I guess they just wanted to get rid of me. Anyway, point is: I’m good at waiting.” 

“JD,” Perry said after a moment. His heart felt uncomfortably full and warm, brimming with the words of a newly-discovered language, one that JD had known all along. “I’m proud of you.” 

Newbie beamed at him. 


	18. My Jambalaya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 5x06

Opening the door proved to be quite the challenge. His arms were trembling under the weight of the paper bags clutched to his chest – filled to the brim with an array of vegetables and overly expensive bottles of wine. Still, he somehow managed to kick the door closed behind him, stumbling into the kitchen just in time for his arms to vomit the contents of the bags all over his kitchen counter. 

“Real graceful, Joanie. How come the boys say you’re the clumsiest belle at the ball?” 

JD froze, his body tensing as if he’d just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. 

“What are you doing here?” 

Perry was sitting on his sofa, feet propped up on the living room table as he leafed through one of his comics. There was a bored look on his face that made JD suspect that he’d been there for a while now. 

“You gave me a key.” 

“Oh, right,” JD said lamely. “But I didn’t think you’d actually use it. You said if you wanted to spend time at a flea-infested joint you’d just crash in the on-call room.” 

“First off, you really need to tone it down. Your unnerving ability to remember everything I say verbatim is off-putting, to say the least. And secondly…” He turned back to the comic, his brow arched in a show of careful indifference. “You seemed a bit off today, so I thought I’d stop by and see what that was all about.” 

“You know me. I’m always weird.” 

Perry gave a non-committal hum. “You don’t usually ask to borrow Carla’s fine china though.” 

“It’s not _Carla’s _china set. It actually belongs to me and Turk. We got it in case the Queen ever stopped by for a tea party. I just had to borrow it for Ke-” He caught himself just in time. “For tonight.” 

“Are we expecting a royal visit then?” 

“Ah, no. Not exactly...” 

He trailed off and busied himself with putting away the vegetables, conscious of the way Perry’s eyes burnt into his back. If he was really quiet, maybe Perry would forget all about him. Or even better: lose interest and wander off to his own place. Like one of those dinosaurs in Jurassic Park.

“Fine, Newbie. You win,” Perry said, his voice tight. “Tell me, are you getting ready for a date?” 

“What do you mean? We didn’t plan anything for tonight.” 

“Just because _we_’re not having a date, doesn’t mean _you_ can’t have one.” 

“What?” His brow wrinkled in confusion. None of this made any sense. “Wait, why… You think I’m having a date. With someone who’s not you?” 

Perry shrugged his shoulders, and JD would have almost bought the whole _I couldn’t care less_-shtick if it wasn’t for the way his hands clenched around the comic, knuckles white and shiny. 

“What else am I supposed to think? You bought an expensive bottle of wine, got recipe advice from Carla... You’re even wearing that shirt.” 

“What’s wrong with the shirt?” 

“It brings out your eyes.” 

“Oh.” JD felt himself flush as his heart gave a tug. “That’s nice! Thank you.” 

A shrill whistle cut through the air. 

“Look, I know I haven’t petitioned your parents and offered to buy your dainty lady-hand for a grand total of five sacks of rice, but I thought we were on the same page here.” 

“It’s not like that.” His gaze dropped to the floor. There was a weird-looking stain right next to the fridge. He’d have to clean that up before… JD sighed. “I invited Kelso over for dinner.” 

Perry blinked at him. “You what?” 

“I tried to distract him from something and the only thing I could think of was an invitation to dinner. Incidentally, did you know that he’s only fifty-seven?” 

“You’re going through all this trouble because of _Kelso_?” 

“Well, he_ is _my boss.” JD fidgeted, his face burning with embarrassment. He didn’t dare look at Perry for fear of seeing disgust or revulsion in his eyes. “I know that you and Kelso don’t exactly get along, but I don’t think it’s wrong to schmooze up to him from time to time. I guess that’s why I didn’t tell you.” 

The urge to fill the silence that settled over them was almost unbearable. He briefly debated defusing the tension with one of his ridiculous exclamations, but that was what had gotten him into this whole mess in the first place. 

“You got enough for one more person?” 

JD’s gaze shot up, his face stretching into a blinding smile. He knew that he must look like the epitome of eagerness, but his insides were doing a funny tap dance and he was too ecstatic to care.

“Really?” 

“Yeah, Lydia. Can’t have you facing the devil alone. Knowing you, you’ll accidentally trip over the hem of your dress and sell your soul to him.” 

Still grinning, JD turned back to the groceries. “Y’know, it’ll be like a couple date. Enid’s coming, too.” 

Perry groaned, clearly already regretting his decision. Still, JD noted that he didn’t leave. 


	19. His House Rules

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written before the current toilet paper craze. Incidentally, stay safe guys!

> _ “You think maybe I could crash at your house?” _   
_ “Sure. Just bring your own toilet paper. It's...kind of a little rule we have with our guests. Preferably something two-ply!” _   
(3x10) 

Perry groaned as he saw Carla standing in the parking lot. She was leaning against that beat-down car Newbie shared with Ghandi, a family-sized pack of toilet paper clutched under her arm. A longer stay, then. 

“You heading over to Turk and Bambi’s, too?” She nodded towards the roll of toilet paper in his hand. 

“Yeah,” he huffed, shrugging his shoulders. He still hadn’t gotten used to this. Used to dating a guy who had cereals for breakfast every damn day. Who kept a dead dog in the run-down flat he shared with his best friend from college. Who wore pajamas with Disney characters on them, garish and obnoxiously cheerful.

Who asked his overnight guests to bring their own toilet paper. 

“You need a ride?” 

“Nah,” Carla said with a shake of her head. “Turk’ll be here any minute. You could come with us though? Save gas money.” 

Yeah, but that would also mean having to catch a ride with the kids come tomorrow morning, and Perry couldn’t imagine a worse way to start his day. Just the thought of having to squeeze into that clown car with Newbie and his black girlfriend, listening to whatever ditzy showtunes they were singing along to this week appealed to his homicidal tendencies. 

He didn’t point that out though. Instead, he leaned against the hood of the car, playfully bumping Carla’s shoulder with his. 

“Do you ever wonder what we’re doing here? I mean…” He huffed out a laugh, his face awash with disbelief. “How the hell did we end up with those two? And why don't we ditch them and give this another try, whaddya say?”

Carla rolled her eyes and swatted his arm. “Oh please. You wouldn’t last a second without Bambi.” 

True, he thought. God knows he was less of a miserable bastard ever since he had shacked up with JD. Still, there was no way he’d admit that out loud. He grunted in token disagreement. 

“Come on,” Carla said, her tone amused. “He’s got you wrapped around his finger, no matter how much you pretend that you don’t care about him.” 

“Whatever you do, don’t tell him that.” 

Carla laughed again. There was no real ire behind his words and they both knew it. 


	20. His Social Butterfly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a-little-drop-of-rain prompted: JD is the most outgoing between the two, draws in the crowds, makes any number of friends, and is all around likable. There’s just something about him that people connect to. And while Perry wouldn’t begrudge him any of it, sometimes it’s hard to know where he stands. They’re so different. How does JD reassure Perry he’s his?

Perry glared at his salad. Rationally, he knew that it was because of his bad mood that the tomatoes and sliced cucumbers seemed to be forming a mocking smile, but that didn’t stop him from stabbing viciously at them with his fork. 

“...we were lucky that we still had the lab coat in the trunk of the car. Can you imagine how that hen night would have gone without a visit from World’s Most Giant Doctor?” 

Perry rolled his eyes at Ghandi’s mind-numbing blabber. _Probably just as well as without them_, he thought bitterly. Two moronic goofballs with an oversized lab coat weren’t exactly top-tier entertainment for any party, much less for a hen night. 

Across the table, Newbie nodded vigorously. “Brandy was about to call the whole thing off. I think it’s fair to say we saved her wedding.” 

A gruff snort escaped him before he could reign it in, and yes, a quick glance at Newbie let him know that his misstep hadn’t gone unnoticed. A look of confusion flickered across JD’s face, followed closely by hurt. Great. It was gone again before Perry could say anything though, replaced by a jovial smile as JD turned back to his best friend. 

“Think we could refresh our mad cocktail juggling skills? They’re doing some classes at the community center.” 

“Dude, that’s an awesome idea!” Ghandi jumped up, and Perry was pretty sure that the muttered “I’ll ask Carla if I can go” was meant for Newbie’s ears only. Whipped, that one. 

Perry turned back to his salad. Maybe Newbie would leave him alone if he didn’t say anything. There was no need to make a big thing out of it either. Hell, he wasn’t even sure there was ‘a thing’ to begin with. 

Plus, by now Newbie had probably forgotten all about it, had gone ahead and spun the wheel of randomness in his head that dictated his consequent line of conversation: His latest run-in with the Janitor and how someone should really, really fire that guy. Mr. Bueller’s discharge and how his list with day-off-related jokes was coming along. Hamsters. 

“Is everything alright?” 

Or maybe his thousand-track mind had chosen this very moment to zero in on the one topic he_ didn’t _want to discuss. 

“Everything’s just peachy, Georgia. Go back to your fries.” 

He briefly looked up – which proved to be a mistake, of course. JD was frowning at him, the spark in his eyes dimmed, and the pang of guilt in his chest let Perry know that he’d have to clear this whole thing up before it could spiral out of control. 

“You and Ghandi had fun last night?” 

“Well, yeah.” JD cocked his head to the side, puzzled. “I love hanging out with Turk.” 

Perry nodded. For once, he was out of scathing remarks and long-winded rants. Hell, he wasn’t even sure why he was upset. Surely, it couldn’t be because JD had gone out with his best friend. Because the two of them had had a fun night out, laughing and drinking. Meeting new people. 

Because JD had chosen, unremarkably, to spent his time with someone who wasn’t an emotionally-stunted bastard who preferred to sour away at home, watching whatever sports program happened to be on that night while he drowned his sorrows in a bottle of scotch. 

“Would you…,” JD began hesitantly. Perry looked up, taking in the open expression on Newbie’s face. The hopefulness. “Would you like to come with us next time? We could sign up for the cocktail juggling class together. Maybe Carla’d like to come, too. It’d be fun.” 

His first thought was that this sounded like an absolute nightmare. 

He could just imagine it: How Carla would play straight-man to Ghandi’s childish antics. How Ghandi’s attempts to impress his wife with increasingly complicated tricks would result in a wasteful spillage of perfectly good alcohol. How JD would get drunk on those girly-ass cocktails he liked to chuck back, becoming clumsier and more affectionate by the minute – a truly dangerous combination. How Newbie'd try to steal kisses despite his strict no-PDA policy, and how Perry'd find himself unable to keep the smile off his face. 

“Yeah,” he said eventually. The picture of JD – punch-drunk and giggly – was vibrant in his mind’s eye. “Doesn’t sound like the worst thing.” 


	21. My Soulmate II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a-little-drop-of-rain prompted: How about lucid dreaming soulmates? They communicate with each other in dreams but completely forget upon awakening.

The room tilted sideways. Everything seemed a bit blurry, a bit out-of-focus. The hard lines of the furniture ran together, weaving into an inky mess of whites and grays. 

The first time he had come here, JD'd thought it looked eerily like a waiting room. Cold and sterile. Unwelcoming. But now – years later, lost in the trickle of time – it had become his favorite place in the world. The initial harshness had given way to warmth, and the etheral glow that bounced off the walls seemed more homey than bleak. 

“You gonna stand there all night, Lindsey?” 

Smiling brightly, JD turned to face Dr. Cox. He was sitting on a sofa in the middle of the room, a newspaper in his hands. It was all for show, of course; everyone knew that you couldn’t read in dreamscapes. The words blurred together, constantly rearranging themselves in a game of hide-and-seek. Which was precisely why JD suspected that the newspaper was more of a prop to Dr. Cox. Something to keep his hands occupied. To give him a reason not to pay attention to JD. He didn’t really mind though. If Dr. Cox felt like he needed an armor in order to be around him… Well, that was fine with him. It didn’t lessen his enjoyment of the time they shared. 

Crossing the distance, JD plopped down on the sofa next to him. There were a good three feet between them. A respectable distance, his mother would say. JD still remembered the one time he had tried to move closer – an attempt which had quickly been shut down when Dr. Cox had glared at him, telling him to _leave room for Jesus, Marcie_. 

This was alright though. This was more than enough. 

Even though theirs might not be one of the more conventional examples of soulmates, JD’d take it any day. Because the mere possibility of spending time with Dr. Cox… it made his heart flutter, sappy as that may sound. 

Still… sometimes he couldn’t help but wish for more. He wondered if he'd be brave enough to make a move if he could remember these dreams upon awakening. If he could remember the time spent with Dr. Cox – the stolen moments, neither here nor there. All the hours in-between sleep and wakefulness, when it was just the two of them. If he could remember that they belonged together. That they were _destined_ for each other. 

JD snuck a glance at Dr. Cox. Maybe he could just ask him. Ask if there was even the slightest of chances that they might… that the two of them… 

Bracing himself, JD opened his mouth – only to be immediately shushed by Dr. Cox. 

“Good God, Fiona. Isn’t it enough that I have to sit through your incessant chatter at work? I thought I had made it clear that this-” The newspaper ruffled as he waved it around, indicating the glowing room, the white walls, the potted plant in the corner. “-is a hush-hush, no-talking zone. So tell me, Newbie. What is it you’re not allowed to do under a-_ha_-ny circumstances?” 

JD sighed. “Talk. I’m not allowed to talk to you.” 

“Atta, girl.” 

Dr. Cox returned to his paper and JD slumped further into the cushions, his bottom lip sticking out in a pout. 

This sucked. Most nights he didn’t mind so much. It was nice to have some peace and quiet to contemplate the day’s events. To go over his decisions, ponder his mistakes. Occasionally – if Dr. Cox was in a good mood – he’d even be allowed to ask him questions. About medical procedures – strictly professional. Or he could badmouth Dr. Kelso. But aside from that, Dr. Cox had made it abundantly clear that he wasn’t happy with this arrangement. 

Okay, so he _had_ once admitted that JD might make a better soulmate than, say, Doug or the Janitor or Jordan. But still… JD couldn’t stop himself from wondering what it’d be like to have a proper soulmate. Someone who was interested in his thoughts and feelings. Who enjoyed talking to him, and who couldn’t wait to fall asleep each night, eager to see him again. Someone who _cared_ for him. 

“Oh, stop it.” 

JD looked up. “What?” 

“You look like Jack when he’s in time-out.” 

“Well,” JD sniffed indignantly. “Maybe that’s because I feel like I’m in time-out. Maybe I’m tired of being ignored like I’m some – I don’t know – plague-ridden gomer. Maybe you’re not the only one who’d rather be anywhere else. Maybe I’d like to have a real soulmate. Someone who’s actually interested in me and wants to have a relationship outside of this stupid, white-washed Hogwarts train station.” 

His outburst was met with silence, hot and stifling, and JD nestled further into the sofa cushions, wishing that he could just sink into the ground. He couldn’t imagine that any of this was normal. There was no way Carla and Turk did this every night. Sit next to each other in hostile silence, disappointment heavy in the air. 

“I don’t want to be anywhere else.” 

“Huh?” 

Dr. Cox sighed, long-suffering. “I don’t want to be anywhere else. I… You know I’m not a fan of this whole soulmate shtick, but… as far as I’m concerned, you’re the least of all evils.” 

The admission wasn’t particularly flower-y, it certainly wouldn’t win any prizes. And yet JD felt absolutely ecstatic. Heart bursting and skin tingling. The whole package. 

“Alright?” 

JD smiled. “Yeah, alright.” 

It’d have to be enough for now. Maybe he’d find the right words to say some day. To show Dr. Cox how much he meant to him and that they would make the best of soulmates. Here or there, awake or asleep. 

One day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After I finished writing this, I realized that it was 100% not what you prompted. I think you were going for a bit more fluff which I, of course, somehow managed to convert into angst. Raincheck?


	22. His First Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a-little-drop-of-rain prompted: First dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love and thanks to desrose for the beta. Any leftover mistakes are mine and mine alone.
> 
> This one is set during Carla & Turk's wedding.

The thought was sudden and unsettling, yet not entirely unwelcome. 

At first he had mistaken it for an intrusive thought, meant to mislead his brain and trick him into doing something fundamentally stupid. Like a carnivorous plant enticing its prey with a sickly sweet odor, or an anglerfish whose treacherous light shone like a will-o-the-wisp in the night, luring schools of fish to certain death. 

_ Newbie looks beautiful tonight. _

It had taken him a moment to make sense of it, and then another to dissect it only to find that yes, Newbie _did _look good tonight. Smart and handsome. 

It couldn’t have been the tuxedo. Perry had seen him wearing one before when Newbie’d been paged mid-date, so he was already familiar with the lean set of his shoulders, the tight press of fabric across his chest, the sharp lines along his waist. Newbie looked like the paragon of elegance and poise – so long as he didn’t open his mouth and start babbling about clowns on tricycles or cocktail juggling or stuffed labs. Nonsensical things. 

And yet, there seemed to be something different about him this night. 

Perry wondered if it was the twinkle in his eyes or the way his lips curled into a smile at the simplest of things. He had been getting increasingly tipsy as the evening progressed, trading one appletini for another. Perry thought that he had seen him with a martini at some point, but wasn’t sure if the bartender had simply gotten his order wrong or if Newbie’s punch-drunk mind had badgered him into impersonating James Bond, tuxedo and coiffed hair and whatnot. 

Before he knew what he was doing, Perry had slammed his empty glass onto the bar and made a beeline for the dancefloor where Newbie was spinning Barbie around in circles, the two of them a giggling mess. They must have made up, Perry realized. Or maybe she was just biding her time, waiting for an opportunity to twirl Newbie into the buffet. 

Either way, Perry didn’t care. It seemed as if his whole world had narrowed to Newbie, narrowed to the light in his eyes, the flush of his cheeks, the laughter spilling from his lips. Everything else seemed to have been drowned out, nothing but an afterthought. An insignificant blur of chatter and clinking silverware. Even the band’s music sounded faint and distant as the upbeat tunes of _She’s a __La__dy _drifted into something slower, something more heartfelt. A ballad. 

“May I cut in?” He asked as soon as he reached the two. Barbie’s eyes widened almost comically, stuttering an embarrassed_ o-of course_ as she disentangled herself from Newbie and held out her hand. Perry ignored it. Instead, he reached out and grasped Newbie’s hand in his. Any concerns he might have had about JD not wanting this, not wanting _him_, dissipated with the surprised giggle that escaped his mouth. 

He pulled JD close, reveling in the warmth of his body pressed against his, how perfectly they fit together. The scent of freshly-picked apples and lavender clung to him, an enticing mixture that had Perry fighting the urge to press his nose into his hair and breathe him in. 

“What are-” 

“Couldn’t watch you trying to _lead _any longer,” he huffed out before pulling back so he could see the look on JD’s face. He’d expected indignation or affront, but JD just smiled at him, bright and blinding. He was positively _glowing_, and Perry felt the tension fade from his shoulders, suddenly insouciant. As if nothing in the world could possibly sour his mood, not when JD was beaming up at him as if he’d hung the moon, eyes shining with unabashed adoration and mirth. 

“I’ll have you know that I’ve had no complaints so far,” JD said smugly. “The ladies love- Eeek!” 

Newbie gave an undignified yelp as Perry spun him around before pulling him back in, their bodies pressed against each other. It’d probably have excited a lot of chatter if half the wedding guests hadn’t left already, and the other half was too drunk to notice what was going on. That Danni was stealing the silverware and that Kelso was three sheets to the wind, half-asleep on the piano. That Jordan had slipped off with one of the bartenders, and that Perry couldn’t care less. 

“What was that, Marla?” Perry asked. “Couldn’t hear you over all the gasping and swooning there.” 

JD laughed. The sound of it was so bubbly, so bright that Perry’s scotch-addled mind wanted to capture it in a jar like a lightning bug. He envied JD for it. Envied him for the easy smiles, the effortless laughter. Unburdened and freely-given, eagerly shared with people like him. People who didn’t deserve— 

“Hey,” Newbie said softly, eyes searching his face. “You okay?” 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

JD made a humming sound in the back of his throat, low and thoughtful. It felt strange to hold his undivided attention; Perry had to suppress the urge to look away, to say something mean and scathing to diffuse the tension. Because JD was too perceptive for his own good, and right now his scrutiny unsettled Perry. Made him feel vulnerable. As though this was a test – and the wistful smile on JD’s face let him know that he’d been found lacking. That he had _failed_. 

“How much have you had to drink?” 

Perry groaned and screwed his eyes shut. “Probably as much as you.” 

“So… a lot.” 

“Yeah.” 

JD nodded, and Perry found himself tightening his grip on him, certain that JD would step away any second now. He’d send Perry back to the broken shards of his life, back to the dead-end job and the wife who didn’t love him. Back to sleepless nights filled with baby-blue eyes, filled with warmth and admiration – chased away by the sudden, harsh knowledge that he couldn’t have any of it. 

“‘s probably not a good idea to get out of here then?” JD said instead, and Perry’s head snapped back. Newbie seemed nervous, eyes looking anywhere but at him. The blush on his cheeks – a faint dusting of rosy-red – made his fingers twitch with the sudden urge to reach up and unfasten the bowtie around Newbie’s neck to see how far it’d go. 

Perry swallowed. 

“Probably not,” he agreed before grabbing his hand and pulling him out into the night. 

_ Oh, all the trouble gone away, oh _   
_ For a while anyway, for a while anyway _   
_ On this heavenly, heavenly, heavenly, heavenly day _


	23. My Trickiest Patient

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a-little-drop-of-rain prompted: sick!Dr. Cox

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love and thanks to desrose for the beta.

_Oh no_.

JD groaned as he rushed up to the nurse’s station, patient charts clattering out of his hands and spilling onto the counter.

“What are you doing here?”

Perry heaved a muffled sigh. His face was almost completely hidden beneath the fluff of his scarf – a woolen monstrosity JD’s grandmother had made for him; Perry must have lifted it from his closet. The only parts visible of his face were the pale cheeks and the flushed tip of his nose, the drowsy eyes and the frowny lines between his brows. He looked miserable, and JD felt a surge of protectiveness swell inside his chest.

“One of Barbie’s interns paged me,” Perry mumbled into the scarf. JD tried not to wince at the hoarseness of his voice.

“So?” He asked, exasperation coloring his words. He probably sounded like a bristly cat, all sharp edges and put-out glower. It was just that... It had been hard enough to get Perry to stay at home in the first place and now he’d have to do it all over again. The gentle coaxing, the tea-making, the pillow-fluffing. The reassurances that his patients would be fine and that Sacred Heart would manage to survive without him for one day.

“You could’ve called and told me to deal with it.”

Perry made a scoffing sound but didn’t say anything. It truly was a testament to his exhaustion that he didn’t call JD an incompetent fool.

“Look,” JD scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’ll deal with it. Just – just head home and get some rest, okay?”

For a long moment, Perry looked like he might protest and JD internally prepared himself for a drawn-out fight (he briefly contemplated what he might be willing to offer if it came to a negotiation. Trading shifts? Taking on extra chores around the house? Giving up his cuddling privileges for a week?). But to his surprise, Perry merely gave a sharp nod of his head and turned to leave, no questions asked, no demands made.

“Don’t let Kelso talk you into pulling extra hours,” Perry said over his shoulder. “I need you to play nursemaid when you get back.”

JD groaned. He supposed it was true what they said: doctors really _did_ make the worst patients.


	24. My Altruistic Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2x08

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love and thanks to desrose for the beta.

“-and untwist your panties. Because the point is, Perry is never going to even _look_ your way if you keep following him around like an infatuated puppy-dog.”

JD blinked, once, twice. “How did we get here again?”

_Here_, meaning Sacred Heart’s on-call lounge, empty save for the two of them. Just him and Jordan, sat across from each other like two old friends exchanging juicy bits of gossip over a cup of watered-down hospital coffee and stale cookies. The whole scene felt utterly surreal, especially given the circumstance that their interactions usually consisted of snarky remarks (from Jordan’s side) and helpless twittering (his own interjections, embarrassingly).

Jordan shrugged. JD wasn’t sure if the blank expression on her face was a sign of disinterest of merely a result of her latest Botox injections.

“I’m bored. This whole pregnancy thing is getting in the way of my usual entertainment-”

“Eating babies and destroying small villages?”

“Also,” Jordan continued, unfazed, “your constant whining is making me sick. Seriously DJ, all the sighs and heart-eyes are ruining my appetite. Which means that instead of its usual diet of five hamburgers and two strawberry milkshakes, the baby is now getting only half its nutrition.”

“You don’t have to hang around the hospital, y’know,” JD said slowly. “You could just go home?”

Jordan rolled her eyes and for a second JD felt like he was poking a sleeping dragon.

(He allowed his mind to set the scene: a cave – dark and winding – with a vicious beast tucked into its belly, a shifting mass of green scales and pointed horns. It blinked at him as he approached, its cat-like eyes tracking his movement across the room.

“Can you roast that for me?” JD held out a marshmallow-covered stick. In an instant, a blaze of flames engulfed him, frying his hair and scorching his skin a burnt-black.)

JD snapped out of it with a shudder.

“Look here, Laura Lovelorn,” Jordan continued. “If you want Perry to get into your panties, you have to make it worth his while. Play hard to get, it’s what I did. Just ignore him until he’s a desperate, writhing mess.”

JD found himself nodding along, assured by the confidence in her voice, the veracity in her eyes. Or was it mischievousness? Wait, was she trying to set him up? Push him into Dr. Cox’s (crossed and clearly unwilling) arms so he’d make a fool of himself and provide Jordan with _the usual entertainment_?

The _witch_.

He narrowed his eyes at her in suspicion.

“Why are you helping me? I mean, why would you want me to get together with Dr. Cox?”

“Because it’d be hilarious.” A beat. “And I might just gouge out my own eyes if I have to watch him salivate after that dirty tramp of a pharma rep any longer.”

“Fair enough.”

“So,” Jordan prompted. “What are you going to do the next time you see him?”

“I’ll…” He hesitated, unsure. “I’ll say hi and keep moving?”

“Wrong!” Jordan snapped and JD cringed. He had no doubt that if she had a newspaper, she’d have rolled it up and hit him over the head. Repeatedly. “You don’t acknowledge him. Just look straight ahead and act like he’s the geeky, no-good wannabe who speaks Ewok and spends his lunchbreak slammed into his locker while the other kids are out having fun. Got it?”

“Yes,” he yelped. And then, because he felt like he should show some gratitude: “Thank you.”

“Whatever, DJ.” She turned away, picking up a brochure on plastic surgery and sifting through its pages. A dismissal if he’d ever seen one. “Just make sure to invite me to your big, gay wedding. It’s been way too long since I’ve slept with a guy who was sexually confused.”

She shot him a pointed look over her brochure, arched brow and all, and JD felt a responding surge of indignation rise up inside of him. Right, he should probably take that as his cue to leave. His lunch break was almost over anyway. And – as Jordan’s smirk reminded him – he had an attending to ignore.


	25. My Pick-Me-Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a-little-drop-of-rain prompted: warmth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, love and thanks to desrose for the beta.

“Stupid rain,” JD grumbles as he trudges into Sacred Heart’s main entry. It’s crowded despite the late hour, and JD has to suppress years of conditioning not to walk up to any of the patients-in-waiting and ask them what’s wrong, how he can help. It’s probably for the best. He’s just finished a grueling 15-hour shift – his third in the last five days. He’s dead on his feet and oh, speaking of feet–

He looks down at his shoes. They’re drenched, squeaking and spewing up muddy water with every step he takes. By now there’s probably a whole eco-system living in there. Yuck.

At least the end’s in sight. He just needs to pick Perry up from _his_ double shift, and then he’ll finally be able to head home and tumble straight into bed, face-down and unresponsive for the foreseeable future. He’s got it all planned out, too. First, he’ll jump under the shower. Then he’ll make some hot cocoa, and then he’ll cuddle up to Perry while he watches ESPN. It’s the perfect evening, even if he’s bound to fall asleep the minute his head hits the sofa.

He throws a glance at the large clock looming over the nurse’s station. Looks like Perry’s running late. JD considers sitting down, but dismisses the idea just as quickly when he realizes that the only vacant chair is right next to an elderly lady doubling over from a coughing fit. If there’s one thing he really, really, _really_ doesn’t need right now it’s to catch a cold. Or something worse, he amends as the woman makes a grab for the nearest trash can.

Ugh.

Finally – after what feels like hours of standing in the lobby, his socks waterlogged and his already sour mood worsening by the minute – Perry walks around the corner. JD feels something pull at his heart at the sight of him, and _oh_, he thinks. How bizarre that a mere glimpse of Perry at the end of a long, hard, _excruciating_ day can lift his spirits. Just like that.

A small smile – unconscious, yet not unwelcome – tugs at his lips as he watches Perry cross the distance between them in fast, determined strides. JD’s about to say something – _hey, whazzup_ – when Perry grabs his face and kisses him _hard_, like he’s pouring himself into the kiss, desperation and longing and everything in-between. As though they haven’t seen each other in years.

“Wha-?” JD asks when Perry pulls back, knees buckling and breath hitching. It’s not like Perry to kiss him in public. Hell, JD counts himself lucky whenever Perry doesn’t outright dispute the fact that they’re dating.

“God, I needed that. I’ve had a rotten day,” Perry explains with a small chuckle, shaking his head. “You okay there, Newbie?”

“Uhm, yeah?” It’s more of a question than a statement, but it’s the best he can do. His mind is still stuck on the kiss, replaying it again and again (and then once more only that this time, Perry’s wearing some kind of sailor’s uniform, and he’s dipping JD low as the people around them applaud and cheer).

“Come on.” Perry whistles, already halfway through the door. “There’s a game on tonight and I’ll be damned if I let this miserable excuse of a hospital keep me away from it for even a second longer than absolu-_hoo_-tely necessary.”

As he hurries to catch up to him, JD suppresses the urge to point out that _Perry_’s the one running ‘this miserable excuse of a hospital’ – mostly because he’s afraid that antagonizing him will cost JD his cuddling privileges. Again.

He barely registers the downpour on their way to the car. Not when Perry’s right beside him, distracting him from the harsh cold with an account of his day. How the Janitor is at it again, and how the new baby docs have come up _with an ungodly amount of truly inspiring mistakes, Melissa. Even _you_ weren’t that goddamn incompetent_. He ends his tale of woe-is-me with a frustrated groan, and JD laughs because they both know that Perry’s got a heart of gold and that he’s secretly gotten attached to every single one of them already.

It doesn’t hit him until they’re halfway home – when he’s nestled into the passenger seat of the Porsche, fingers playfully inching towards the radio when Perry’s not paying attention – that he’s feeling much better. His socks are still a lost cause, but he feels fuzzy and comfortable nonetheless. Also…

He sneaks a glance at Perry and takes in the small smile on his face, the warmth in his eyes. Somehow, JD’s got an inkling that this sudden thawing, this golden afterglow inside of him, isn’t entirely because of the Porsche’s heater.


	26. My Detective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Detective!JD

He could hear the strained notes of a rant drifting through the doors before he’d even set foot inside the ICU. 

“-so you see, it’s like a gritty, messed-up version of the circle of life – and by the way, this metaphor was brought to you by my _son _who has decided that the Lion King is an underappreciated movie which should be watched at least three times a day, despite the fact that it drives his poor, single father abso-_hoo_-lutely insane.” 

Dr. Cox paused, clearly basking in the undivided attention his interns bestowed upon him. 

“So even if you forget every single thing I've tried to teach you, remember this: The police shoot the poor and defenseless before dumping them on our doorstep for patch-up, just so we can release them back into the wild again, where – you guessed it – the whole circle will start again and again and_ again_.” 

“Actually,” JD said, clearing his throat. “He’ll go straight to prison. But I suppose that’s just technicalities.” 

Dr. Cox whirled around, and the exaggerated grin on his face let JD know that he'd been aware of his presence all along. 

“Detective!” Dr. Cox chimed in a faux-cheerful voice. There was a manic glint in his eyes that explained why the gaggle of interns had slunk off as soon as his back was turned. “Here to pick up your order? One shot-up perp to go, was it?” 

JD suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. To think that he hadn’t immediately realized the reason behind his colleagues’ eagerness to pawn their medical liaisons off on the new guy. No one at the precinct stopped by Sacred Heart willingly, all thanks to Dr. Cox. The good doctor wasn’t shy to let anyone know what he thought about police officers – which wasn’t a lot, truthfully. 

(Still, he should probably be grateful that Dr. Cox was no longer humming stripper tunes whenever JD showed up in full uniform. Small mercies.) 

“If you don’t mind?” he said, trying for civility. “I hope Mr. Larssen is alright?” 

Dr. Cox cocked his head from side to side as if debating the issue. 

“Well, it wasn’t easy, but – oh, what the hell – we _delight _in cleaning up your messes. It’s not as if we don’t have enough to do around here already.” 

Dr. Cox laughed, and dear God, JD was sure that he’d seen that exact smile on the faces of psychopaths moments before they'd blown something up. Without guilt or conscience. 

“Of course, Mr. Larssen wouldn’t have had to come here if your trigger-happy friends hadn’t shot him in the first place, but I suppose that’s just _business as usual _for you guys, hmm’I right?” 

JD frowned. 

“Actually, he was shot by one of his trigger-happy _friends_. I guess the world of money laundering isn’t huge on the whole friends-for-life thing.” And then, because he felt rude and Dr. Cox _was _quite intimidating, he added placatingly, "Big Dog. Dr. Cox. Sir." 

A beat passed between them, and JD watched as the smile slipped from Dr. Cox’s face, his eyes softening. 

“Fine.” He turned back to his interns. “Lonny, show Detective Dorian to room 109. Atta boy.” 

One of the interns rushed forward, clearly relieved to be getting a reprieve from Dr. Cox’s scathing showmanship. JD couldn’t blame him. He knew firsthand how intense, just how demanding Dr. Cox could be. It was probably ten times worse for those who had to work with him on a daily basis, all the residents and nurses...

He couldn’t even imagine being one of Dr. Cox’s interns. There’d probably be a lot of barbed insults and demeaning coffee-runs. A lot of glaring, too.

JD wondered if Dr. Cox made up for it in other ways. Maybe some well-placed praise here and there. A pat on the shoulder. An offer to grab a beer after a particularly grueling shift – just the two of them. A barely-there smile on Dr. Cox’s face as he’d pat JD's knee, his hand lingering before slowly gliding up— 

He tripped over his feet, his mind reeling from the strange turn his thoughts had taken. No, he thought with a shake of his head. Better to keep those thoughts locked-away. He was sure that Dr. Cox wouldn’t appreciate them. At all. 

As he followed Lonny out of the ICU, JD couldn’t help but overhear a snippet of conversation between Dr. Cox and a blonde doctor who had wandered over sometime during their exchange. 

“You know,” the blonde doctor said in a pensive tone, “there was no need to mention that you’re single.” 

“Shut up, Barbie.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brought to you by my unhealthy aspiration to shove JD and Brooklyn Nine-Nine’s Jake Peralta into the same universe. Also, can you imagine Dr. Cox showing up to work in JD’s Police Academy sweatshirt?


	27. My Misery Loves Company

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3x12

> _‘None of us slept last night. How I know that is irrelevant.’_   
_(3x12)_

It was late when JD trudged up the steps to their apartment. He could hear the television blasting some sports program through the door – shrill whistles combined with the dull tones of a late-night commentator. JD’s heart sunk. Turk was still awake then. He had hoped that he could sneak in; he wasn’t exactly eager to rehash his outing with Dr. Casey. 

“Honey, I’m home,” he said, his voice faux-cheerful. If only he was feeling it. 

But instead of Turk’s usual _welcome back, ‘nilla bear_, an amused snort sounded from the sofa. 

“Really, Larissa. You’re making it too easy.” 

“Dr. Cox? What are you doing here?” 

Frowning, JD took in the sight in front of him. Dr. Cox and Turk were slouching on the sofa, their eyes locked onto the television. Their bad mood was only betrayed by the tension in their shoulders, the worried lines on their faces. If JD hadn’t been so exhausted, his head might have come up with a suitable fantasy: And here we have two rare specimens of _abject depression_. 

“I wanted to take you up on that offer of beer,” Dr. Cox said, nodding towards a row of empty cans sitting on the table in front of them. “But Ghandi here told me that you were out with dream boat. Oh come on, that was clearly out!” 

“I don’t believe you,” JD said. He wasn’t in the mood to be baited. “You’re still angry with me for asking that question on metabolic diseases.” 

Dr. Cox made a sound caught somewhere between a disgruntled huff and a disinterested hum. 

“What about you, JD?” Turk asked. “What’s got you so down?” 

“Just something Dr. Casey said,” he explained, trying hard to keep his eyes from wandering to Dr. Cox. “It’s stupid.” 

“What,” Dr. Cox asked, taking a swig of his beer. “He tell you to stop waiting around for a handsome prince who'll carry you off into the sunset?” 

“Something like that.” 

Dr. Cox clenched his teeth, his jaw set as a dark expression flashed across his face. Weird, JD thought. It looked almost as if he cared. 

“Hey, Ghandi-rella, I’m out of beer.” 

It was a testament to Turk’s low spirits that he didn’t fight back. He simply got up, grabbed his jacket and headed for the door to get another six-pack from the corner store. JD thought he heard him mutter something about loaded stopwatches under his breath. Huh, he’d have to ask him about that later. 

JD slumped further into the cushions and turned his attention to the television. Was that rugby or football? He didn’t want to ask Dr. Cox. He felt worthless enough as it was, no need to add yet another dressing-down. 

“It was a stupid idea anyway.” 

“What?” 

“Grabbing a beer with Casey,” Dr. Cox explained, his voice tight. “Don’t go out with him again.” 

“Yeah, I don’t think I will.” 

“Good.” 

Dr. Cox gave him a sharp nod of his head, seemingly satisfied, and they both turned back to the game. It was true what they said, JD mused, misery loved company. But somehow, he felt less alone for it. 


	28. His Oblivion

Perry banged his head against the wall.

“The betting pool?” He asked without looking up. There was an odd smell to the wall, a cross between laundry detergent and disinfectant, and Perry hoped that inhaling it would render him unconscious. At this point, it'd be a mercy.

Carla clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

“We had to make some adjustments. No one thought it’d take JD this long to catch on. Laverne’s gone up to twelve.”

“Five dates, Carla. Five!” He groaned. “Jordan and I were married_ for years_ and we didn’t have that many dates.”

“What is that age-old question again? When is a date not a date?” Carla sounded entirely too amused by the whole thing, which Perry found quite unattractive seeing as this was his _ life _ and it was already enough of a goddamn farce without Newbie’s obliviousness thrown into the mix.

“Oh, come on.” He turned towards her, scowl firmly in place. “Why else would I sit through one of those obnoxious murder mystery dinners? I mean, woo-ho boy, did I come close to strangling someone myself.” He forced out a laugh. “And who’d take a colleague to a matinee of _ Singin’ in the rain_? I don’t know what worries me more – that Newbie still won’t catch on, or that he actually believes I'd have two tickets to what’s got to be the gayest thing since YMCA just lying around.”

“Well,” Carla said. Her words were dripping in schadenfreude. “If you keep this up, the two of you will be platonically married by the end of the year.”

“Funny. Were you already this cruel back when I had a crush on you? Because if so, I really don’t know how I managed to keep my hands to myself.”

“Why don’t you just ask Bambi out?” She raised her hand and he closed his mouth, the half-assed excuses dying in his throat. “And I don’t mean another one of those pathetic ‘Hey Cynthia, I happen to have two coupons for a candlelight dinner down at the harbor. So whaddya say we head there on our lunch break, huh?’”

“You’ve gotten good at this,” he said, impressed despite himself. “No, really. That tone and the overall sense of dejection and self-loathing… It’s spot-on.”

Carla snorted and turned back to her folders. 

“Look, Carla,” Perry sighed, digging his fingers into his temples in an attempt to ward off the oncoming headache. “There’s a difference between mindless hero-worship and actually returning the funny tinglies your male co-worker –  no matter how much he may look like a Greek god –  feels for you.”

Carla’s eyes softened. “Are you saying that the great Perry Cox is afraid of rejection?”

Okay, so he hadn’t thought this through. Of course Carla would jump on his insecurities like a bloodhound with a tasty bone. Too bad he wasn’t in the mood for a heart-to-heart. Ever.

“D’you think I could join the betting pool? I need to pay for those dinners somehow.”

But Carla wasn’t having it. Of course not.

“If you’re too scared to come right out and say it, why don't you set him up on a blind date? And when he shows up at the restaurant, he’ll realize that _ you _ are his date.”

“That is… so ridiculous that it might actually work.”

“Always happy to help. Tell a friend.”

\--

The next day found Perry banging his head against the wall. Again.

“Oh no,” Carla sighed. “What happened?”

He was just about to launch into his latest failure when JD sauntered up to the nurses’ station.

“Hey Carla, hey Dr. Cox.” JD took in his slumped shoulders, the scowl on his face. “Are you still feeling glum about yesterday? I don’t think it was personal. Maybe there was a traffic jam or something. I mean, what are the odds we’re both getting stood up on the same evening?”

Perry forced out a laugh. It sounded slightly manic to his own ears, but JD didn’t seem to notice. Oblivious as ever.

He watched as JD grabbed a chart and headed into one of the patient rooms. As soon as he was out of sight, his face fell. He could feel Carla's gaze on him, along with the pity that kept wafting off her in spades.

“Do you think he’ll catch on if I propose?”

“He’ll just think you bought matching mood rings.”

Perry groaned. “You should get back to Laverne. I don’t think twelve dates are going to cut it either.”


	29. His Elevator Woes

“... so the next time you insist on following me into a confined space, you had better make damn sure to bring a rusty kitchen knife or a used scalpel or _anything_ else I may use to cut my own ears off in self-defense, so I won’t have to sit through your relentless chatter.” 

Newbie opened his mouth (no doubt to retort with one of his lame comebacks; his pick of the day seemed to be, ludicrously, 'so's your face') when the elevator screeched to a sudden halt. Perry somehow managed to throw his arms out just in time, bracing himself against the wall. Newbie wasn’t so lucky. He stumbled over his own feet, as uncoordinated as a startled fawn. It was pathetic, really.

They exchanged worried looks as the lights flickered, bathing them in darkness before the emergency lights kicked in.

“It’s probably the Janitor,” Newbie explained with a roll of his eyes. He didn't sound surprised, and Perry couldn't shake the impression that he'd expected something like this to happen. That this was _normal_ for him. Just another Tuesday. “He said I 'dishonored his heritage' when I said that bagels are better than doughnuts.” 

Oh no. No-ho ho.

There was absolutely no way that he was stuck in a damned elevator because of Newbie's ridiculous feud with the Janitor. Perry rounded on him, his face flushed with irritation.

“You know,” he drawled, “this little fling you’ve got going on with Jumpsuit is peachy-cute and all, but I simply can_nawt_ allow you to sneak around with him any longer if it’ll interfere with your work.” 

“That’s not… He isn’t-” Newbie stammered, clearly flustered. “It’s not like that! He’s got this imaginary vendetta against me because he thinks I put a penny in the door.” 

Perry clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

“Seems to me that he’s pulling your pigtails.” 

“What?” 

“Come on, Newbie.” He slapped on a mocking grin. “Just think back to middle school when you were skipping around in your frilly little skirts and training bra, drawing little hearts into your _My Little Pony_ diary. Remember how the mean, mean boys made fun of you and pulled your pigtails to get your attention?” 

“You mean like you do all the time?” 

And just like that it felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the elevator. 

“What did you just say?” 

“You tease me all the time.” 

“Nnnnnno,” he drawled, wondering how much he could stretch the word before he’d have to add new ones to the mix. Words that would explain that no, just because he liked to make fun of Newbie every chance he got (and let’s face it, there were a lot) didn’t mean that he wanted to get into his pants. It wasn’t like he _enjoyed_ seeing his cheeks flushed with anger, the fiery spark in his eyes. The way his hands would tremble after a particularly vicious comment, like he was just moments away from reaching out. Reaching for _him_. 

How he’d still come back every damn time, as though to prove to him that _see, I won’t abandon you like all the others_. 

Well, damn.

His inarticulate excuse was cut short by the cheerful ding of the elevator as it opened its doors to the second floor. Newbie gave him a quick wave and stepped out, leaving him alone with his sudden realization. 


	30. My Haunting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a-little-drop-of-rain prompted: ghost!JD. An accident puts JD in a coma. But of course JD can’t just lie there even when that’s all he’s physically capable of doing. So he’s hanging around outside his body and watching everyone’s reactions, noticing Dr. Cox having the hardest time. JD’s worried about leaving him alone so he doesn’t. Cue poltergeist JD tagging along everywhere. Can they communicate in some way? Does JD pull a few over on him?

He spent his first day in denial. 

When he had told Dr. Cox that he believed comatose patients had some awareness of what was going on around them, this wasn’t what he’d had in mind. Snippets of conversation or physical stimuli, sure. But he hadn’t expected a _literal _haunting. 

It was bizarre to walk around the hospital without anyone being able to see him, a blur of translucent white. His shirt was covered in dried blood, courtesy of the car crash that had thrown him into a coma. That had broken his bones and damaged his organs and reduced his body to an empty vessel. 

That had turned him into a living poltergeist phenomenon. 

Once he had gotten over his initial shock, JD had tried to make the best of it. He’d figured that his friends needed him more than his lifeless body. 

Carla was the only one around, and so he spent his second day trailing after her, watching as she went through the motions, her eyes rimmed with red. Elliot didn’t look much better; JD had caught a glimpse of her earlier, had seen the black tearstains on her cheeks. JD supposed that she had gone home to get some rest, a reprieve from the pain and heartache. 

On the third day of this purgatory, JD found a way to cheer up his best friend. 

He had realized that he could move things – as long as they didn’t weigh too much, and only if he was aided by external factors. As such, he couldn’t take the Janitor’s water bucket and dump it over his head, but he _could _create a whirlwind of paperwork as long as there was an open window. 

Which was exactly what he was doing whenever Turk was around, and_ there you go_, JD thought as a reluctant smile tugged at his friend’s lips. 

It wasn’t until his fifth day as Sacred Heart’s resident ghost that he caught sight of Dr. Cox. JD had been trying to send the muffin basket across the room (he didn’t feel hunger, but he could still begrudge Dr. Kelso his ninth muffin for the day) when he saw a blur of white lab coat and trendy sneakers duck into his room. 

When JD followed him, he found Dr. Cox looking at his chart, his brows etched into a deep frown. Anyone who hadn’t studied Dr. Cox as religiously as he had over the past few years would have thought that he merely looked tired. 

JD knew better though. 

He’d seen the signs before: the tense set of his shoulders, the stubble, the darkness in his eyes. Dr. Cox was on the verge of another breakdown, and if JD’s background in medicine wasn’t enough to clue him in to the fact that things were looking dire, Dr. Cox’s disposition certainly was. 

“Doesn’t look good, huh?” JD joked half-heartedly. “Guess I turned into one of your gomers.” 

There was a strangled whine, not unlike that of a wounded animal, and JD turned to look at Dr. Cox. He was stock-still, pained eyes staring down at the lifeless body in front of them. 

Without realizing what he was doing, JD reached out to pat his shoulder, to _anchor_ him. But before his hand could make contact, Dr. Cox slammed the chart down. There was a loud clang as it hit the metal frame of the bed, the piercing sound almost obscene in the tense silence of the room. 

“Damnit Newbie,” Dr. Cox growled, his voice strained. “You can’t-” He choked up, and JD wished he could comfort him, could lessen the ache.

“I can’t do this. You need to come back. This isn’t- It’s not-” 

“Dr. Cox?” 

JD turned around to find Carla standing in the door, a concerned expression on her face.

“Are you alright?” 

JD watched as Dr. Cox cleared his throat, blinking once, twice, before he turned to Carla. For once, he seemed to be out of cutting remarks, uninterested in donning the mask of the uncaring, cold-hearted bastard. 

“No, Carla,” he said in a low voice. “I’m not.” 

Carla’s eyes softened. 

“Come on,” she said, placing her hand on Dr. Cox’s shoulder and steering him out the door. “I’m buying you lunch. When’s the last time you ate something?” 

JD hung back as they left. His chest felt heavy, as though it was housing a large void, a poisonous black hole that sucked and sucked and _sucked_. 

He _needed _to go back. Needed to get back to the hospital, to his friends. To Dr. Cox. 

Slowly, he turned back to the still body on the bed, hands reaching out, searching for something, a last spark of life, the remnant of the will to live. Something viable and vibrant, something hopeful and tentative, something like— 

A twitch of his finger. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to thank everyone who read & commented & bookmarked this collection of stories. I had a lot of fun exploring these different scenes and scenarios, and I'm overjoyed to see that people enjoyed reading them.

**Author's Note:**

> This is where I'll keep my JDox One-Shots and scenes. Feedback is much appreciated!


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